


within this barren wasteland

by Vitexy



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, But they're called Revenants, End of the World, Established Relationship, Found Family, I Don't Have A Beta Reader, M/M, Slow Burn, Vampires, and I want to gouge my own eyes out when I read my stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 07:20:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 56,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23347567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vitexy/pseuds/Vitexy
Summary: The end of the world came like it does in all the movies, but that wasn't really the end. Humans were the one who engineered their own demise.Yeosang is just trying to survive the end of the world. He's not looking for a family, but he finds one anyways.
Relationships: Choi Jongho/Kang Yeosang, Choi San/Jeong Yunho
Comments: 29
Kudos: 177





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off Code Vein because I actually enjoyed that game and its plot please don't come after me. I never claimed to have good taste in anything (except my music). It has good reviews but all my friends shit talk it please help! 
> 
> Um...I'm trying something new, I think. This is gonna be hella annoying. World building is pretty intense here guys. If you played the game it probably helps, but the timeline and setting aren't quite the same. You'll have to pay attention to dialogue if you don't want to be confused.
> 
> I don't expect this to be more than 2 (maybe 3) chapters at most because I don't know how to commit to anything so I can't write a real chaptered fic. I'm really only breaking it up because the lore is intense and I hate you guys :) 
> 
> Disclaimer: I'm not a doctor or a medically trained professional so none of this is accurate. I'm a scientist.   
> Disclaimer 2: I am a scientist but none of the information or lore is scientifically accurate or makes any sense so maybe I'm not really a scientist either :( Just go with it please? 
> 
> Slow burn!JongSang because I haven't quite gotten their dynamic down even in the second chapter. oops  
> Established!YunSan cuz idk. I guess they're my OTP now

Yeosang isn’t sure if what he’s currently feeling is panic or anger. His breaths come in heaving pants as he struggles to breath through the hood thrown over his head while he’s forced to walk at a pace faster than he appreciates. He isn’t quite sure how this happened. He’d been out scavenging for something to eat when he was suddenly ambushed from behind by at least two guys. They threw the hood over his head and wrestled him to the ground. He kicked and struggled, yelling at them to get off him but his strength had since left him. Right now the most resistance he could offer up is to just dig his heels into the ground though that hardly seems to slow his attackers down. 

It makes Yeosang anxious how strong they are. He worries about only one thing: that it means he’ll become a blood bag. A door clangs open, and he’s thrown to the ground without warning. He yelps as his fingers scrape against concrete and before he can even try to scramble up someone pins him to the ground and roughly rolls him over. Yeosang likes to think he’s got a lot of fight in him, but he can hardly do more than squirm underneath the body pinning him to the ground as the hood is roughly pulled off his head. He squints when the lights overhead momentarily blind him. 

“Check his teeth,” one of them speaks. 

Oh. 

_Oh_. 

Well at least he doesn’t have to worry about becoming a blood bag today. The guy holding him down pries his mouth open, and Yeosang chokes. “They look normal,” the man confirms, releasing his hold on his jaw. 

“I’m not a Revenant,” Yeosang spits out of them. “Fucking get _off_ me.” 

The guy glares at him but proceeds to let him up. With a grunt, Yeosang rolls over and pushes himself up onto his hands and knees. Someone strides into the room at that moment, his boots clicking against the ground as he walks. “What the hell is going on in here?” a voice booms into the room. 

Three pairs of eyes turn to look. Yeosang narrows his gaze and quickly hauls himself up to his feet. Whoever this guy is he has authority here, and Yeosang is frankly ready to fight him if he has too. He looks intimidating, but, stature wise, Yeosang thinks he has a chance. 

“We found him when we went out to hunt,” the guy who hadn’t pinned him down explains, pointing at Yeosang. 

“So you kidnapped him?” The leader asks, quirking an eyebrow at his subordinate who quiets down. 

“We didn’t know what to do with him,” the one who pinned him down defends. “We thought it would be better if we brought him back to check if he was a Revenant.” 

“I was looking for _food_ ,” he hisses at the stockier man. “What fucking Revenant does that, genius?” 

The stocky guy glares at him, lips curling up in a snarl. “Plenty,” he retorts. “Some of them still have blood bags to feed, and, believe it or not, it works as a fantastic ruse for starving humans.” 

“Still stealing resources from us,” the other guy adds, and Yeosang would have thrown himself at him if he wasn’t clearly outnumbered. 

“Wooyoung,” their leader snaps, “can it.” The guy, Wooyoung, tenses up and turns away from Yeosang. Alright, the brunette thinks as he observes the interaction, so this guy is in charge. Or at least in charge of these guys. Yeosang eyes his surroundings. He can’t tell exactly where he is. The building doesn’t seem terribly large, but Yeosang can’t quite accurately discern the size. Who knows how many people are here. 

“Jongho,” he addresses the stocky man next. He straightens up, staring at the man attentively. Yeosang watches the way he seems to defer to the leader even though he looks like he could easily take him on if he wanted. “Why don’t you go check on San?” 

The stocky guy, Jongho, tenses up at the request, eyes hardening. “Are you fucking serious?” he spits out like the very suggestion offends him. 

“Dead. Serious,” their leader hisses back at him. 

Yeosang shuffles a few steps away from Jongho as he watches him clench his hands into fists, his jawline protruding as he grinds his teeth together. He looks about ready to fight his own leader when he suddenly releases a frustrated exhale before promptly turning around and stomping out of the building. Yeosang breathes a sigh of relief he hadn’t realized he was holding on to upon his departure. Then he briefly wonders exactly who “San” is that he elicits such a response. 

Much of the tension in the atmosphere seems to dissipate when he leaves. Wooyoung’s shoulders hunch down, and their leader’s posture becomes more relaxed as well. “I apologize for them,” he says, addressing Yeosang. The brunette stiffens when he’s addressed, taking another step back. “We’re just....all on edge lately.” 

Who isn’t? Yeosang wants to sneer. It’s the end of the fucking world, and he’s just trying to survive. “Whatever. Can I go then?” 

Wooyoung and their leader exchange a look. The blond shakes his head at him, and the leader presses his lips into a thin line. “Are you sure?” he asks him. “We’re safer in numbers.” 

Maybe, Yeosang agrees, but he’s not really keen on staying with a group of humans who kidnapped and manhandled him. “I’ve been doing fine on my own,” he remarks. 

“You’ll die on your own,” Wooyoung tells him. 

Yeosang turns his sharp gaze to the blond, hands balling into fists. “Wooyoung,” his leader warns him, but the blond shakes his head. 

“It’s true,” he argues. “We’ve been living here for a long time. We have control of most of the supplies right now, but more importantly you’re nomadic, right?” Yeosang bristles at the question because how could he _possibly_ know that? He opens his mouth to argue, but Wooyoung cuts him off. “You weren’t all that far off from entering a Revenant’s territory.” 

His words die in his throat. Alright, he hadn’t expected that. “Revenant’s aren’t generally territorial,” he shoots back. 

“ _These_ ones are,” Wooyoung retorts. “We’ve been here a couple of years, okay? They showed up a year ago and haven’t left since. They’re territorial.” 

Yeosang blinks. Normally Revenants are nomadic, moving from one area to the next always in search of their next meal. With human numbers dwindling and blood springs drying up it tends to be their best strategy. A group refusing to leave means one of two things: they know there are humans nearby or there’s a reliable blood spring. “How many?” he asks. 

Wooyoung looks at him then at his leader. “We don’t know,” the man says, crossing his arms over his chest. “At least more than one, but we try to keep our distance. As far as we know they don’t know about us yet.” 

“There’s a blood spring north of here. You were only a few blocks away from it,” Wooyoung adds. “If you’d have continued that way they would have found you.” 

“You were just as close to it then,” Yeosang accuses. 

“Yeah, but _I_ knew it was there. That’s why we attacked you. We haven’t seen you before, and you were so close to the blood spring. We thought you might have been a Revenant.” 

“So you really thought you could just kidnap a Revenant, and then what? What if I was?” Yeosang argues. “If you thought I was one you should have just stabbed me through the heart.” 

“You would have served a purpose,” Wooyoung snaps at him, and the way he says it sounds like a threat. His eyes darken. “You still could if you keep this up.” 

“Wooyoung, shut up,” his leader hisses at him. “We’re not killing other humans. We’re already endangered.” 

“Fine,” the blond huffs. “Then just let him go. He’ll get himself killed.” 

“Wooyoung, go do something useful?” the man suggests. Wooyoung purses his lips together, glaring at Yeosang, then at his leader, but he scoffs and turns to flounce out of the room. “I’m sorry about them,” he apologizes once again. 

With a snort, Yeosang side-eyes this leader of theirs. He doesn’t exactly understand what’s happening between them. Something is causing tension—maybe the group of Revenants up North—but Yeosang isn’t too keen on sticking around long enough to figure it out. “You know, you really suck at selling yourself if you want me to stay.” 

The man rubs at his arm self-consciously. “I realize,” he admits. “Things have been...rough lately.” 

“Why would you want me to stay?” Yeosang asks out of curiosity. He’s seen a few communities of humans in his travels. Some seem functional, other’s had been tearing apart at the seams. Yeosang would bet this group isn’t too far along in that category. He himself has never quite been able to trust humans or Revenants a like, not for a long time at least. 

“There’s only four of us here,” the man explains. “And there are certain skills that we’re lacking. We could use all the help we can get.” 

Yeosang narrows his eyes at the explanation. “And you think I have those skills?” he asks. 

The man’s eyes drop to his arm which Yeosang promptly hides behind his back. He lifts his gaze back up to him. “I believe so,” he answers. 

Yeosang scowls. He doesn’t like the confidence in his answer. “And in exchange?” he asks. 

“We have shelter, food, and water,” he offers. “We can share it with you.” 

Yeosang considers this for a moment. He isn’t exactly certain he knows what this man thinks he has to offer, but the promise of secure shelter and food are quite appealing. Still, he remains on high alert. “You sound confident about that, but last I checked you admitted there was a group of Revenants nearby.” 

The man frowns at him. “We believe it is a small group,” he says slowly. “And they’re here for a blood spring. Once it’s dried up, they’ll leave. I’m not worried about them.” 

“But they could venture this way. And if they do—” 

“We know how to avoid them,” the man answers confidently. “This isn’t our first time dealing with a group of passing Revenants, and we’re still alive.” He raises an eyebrow in challenge. “So? You willing to take the deal or not? I could use you, and you could use me. Or are you not sick of running into Revenants yet?” He stares pointedly at the thick choker around Yeosang’s neck. 

The brunette reaches a hand up, fingers tracing along the band as a scowl forms on his face. This guy is obnoxiously observant, he figures. Yeah, he had a few run-ins with Revenants before. Non-frenzied ones, but still. He’d been bitten more than once, but Revenants still fully in charge of their mental capacities knew better than to drink a human dry. They were too precious to kill. 

“I still managed to get away,” he grumbles under his breath. 

“Yeah, but how long till you run into a frenzied one?” 

Yeosang winces at the question. So far he’d been lucky, but the guy was right. It was over if a frenzied Revenant ever found him. So he sighs because this is, admittedly, not a bad deal, and he’s frankly tired, hungry, and thirsty. “Fine. If you say you can feed and house me, I suppose it’s not too bad of an exchange.” 

“I thought you’d see it that way.” The man smiles at him. “I’m Hongjoong.” 

Yeosang hugs himself as he stares at this man, Hongjoong. “Yeosang,” he returns. They shake on the deal. 

  
  
  
  


Jongho is sure he’s going to be pissed when he walks into the basement where the old prison cells are. He’s not sure there’s ever a time when he doesn’t come down here pissed, but for fuck’s sake, really? “Jesus Christ, San,” he says, exasperated when he sees him. He’s sitting on the floor of the hallways just outside one of the cells, the only one that’s occupied. The only one that’s basically sealed off. Only Hongjoong has the key for the door, and he refuses to unlock it. That’s not what bothers Jongho though because everyone just kind of knows that if you’re looking for San this is where he is. 

No what bothers him is the fucking needle sticking out of his left arm. Jongho has to momentarily turn away because as much as he might be accustomed to violence in this dog eat dog shit world, he hates the sight of needles. 

San gingerly pulls it out of his arm. Jongho sighs in relief. 

“You shouldn’t be doing things like that on your own,” he scolds, storming over to the older man. He stares down at him, trying not to feel too much pity. He looks tired and weak, as he always does, and his dark hair is stringy. Jongho wrinkles his nose up. 

San offers up the needle and syringe to Jongho instead. It’s a silent request, and in a fit of rage he slaps it out of his hands. “I’m not fucking helping you,” he snaps at him. 

“Jongho!” he gasps out, sluggishly moving forward to retrieve the needle. Jongho bends down, grabbing him by the shoulders and, not too gently, shoving him back. 

“No,” the younger man denies him firmly. “Go take a bath. You look disgusting.” 

“But…” San looks at him before pointedly staring at the cell door in front of him. It’s a steel door, a slide covering a small window sits near the top at eye level. “He’s hungry.” 

Jongho grits his teeth. “He’ll be fine,” he growls out. “Now go take a bath and maybe I’ll help you.” 

San stares at him for a moment like he’s taking in and processing his words. Then, reluctantly, he steadies himself against the wall and stands up on shaky legs. He shoots the younger man a pitiful look before he starts to walk away, using the wall to steady himself. When he’s gone, Jongho glares at the needle still sitting on the ground and viciously kicks it down the hallway. 

“This is _your_ fault,” he accuses, his words echoing in the empty hallway. Then he turns on his heels and stomps out. 

  
  
  
  
  


Yeosang takes in his surroundings as best he can in the dark as Hongjoong leads him across a courtyard to another building. It’s not the type of set up he had been expecting, and he’s curious about their location. “Where are we?” he asks as Hongjoong leads him into another building. 

The man pauses, flicking his dark bangs out of his eyes as he turns to face Yeosang. “It’s an old military base,” he explains. The brunette suppresses a shiver. Hongjoong motions him to follow and as they walk down the hallway, Yeosang realizes that this must have been the barracks. It’s an...interesting choice for a base, Yeosang thinks. 

“There’s only four of you,” he murmurs to himself when Hongjoong stops outside one of the rooms. The dark haired man looks at him curiously. “The four of you decided to set up on an old military base?” he asks, eyes narrowed. 

Hongjoong crosses his arms over his chest. “Is there a problem?” 

“No,” Yeosang denies with a small sniff. “I just think it’s an interesting choice. It was just abandoned?” 

Hongjoong motions for Yeosang to enter the room.“It was an old base used during the war with the Queen,” he explains. The brunette tenses at the mention of the war. It’s been over for years now, but—an uneasy feeling settles in his gut. “It was well stocked with food and medical supplies. Plus it’s fortified. It’s a smart place to post up.” 

Yeosang steals a glance at the man from the corner of his eye. He’s not telling him something, but Yeosang isn’t sure what. “Ex-military?” he guesses. 

The man huffs, shoulders relaxing. “You can tell?” Yeosang hums noncommittally, scanning over the room. There’s a small cot pushed into the corner of the room, a little night stand, and a dresser. It’s simple, but it’s a place to sleep. “I suppose you can tell,” Hongjoon comments from the doorway. “I get the same feel from you, after all.” 

Yeosang’s shoulders stiffen and he straightens his back. Warily, he glances at the man over his shoulder. “I’m not military,” he flatly denies. 

“Not a soldier,” Hongjoong agrees. “But you worked during the war. I can tell.” 

Yeosang forces himself not to fidget. He’s hardly said anything, but this man can clearly glean enough information from him just from observations alone. “I was a medic,” he says carefully, hoping to control the narrative. 

The man grins at him. “Knew it.” 

Yeosang raises a brow at him. “Oh? And how could you tell?” he asks out of curiosity. 

Hongjoong motions to him with a finger. “Your scar,” he says simply. Yeosang looks down at his left hand, turning it over to look at the long scar that runs down his inner forearm. He frowns, pressing it against his stomach. “That wound was deep when it was made, but it’s healed over nicely all things considered. You must have had to stitch it—neatly—which requires some degree of medical training. I didn’t necessarily think you were an army medic until just now though.” 

He’s not wrong, Yeosang begrudgingly admits, but there’s still just one issue. “You can’t possibly know if I stitched it up myself. Perhaps I bargained with a doctor for medical treatment.” 

“Possibly,” Hongjoong acknowledges, “but unlikely. You’re a lone wolf. I’d say you’ve been on your own for a long time, probably since the provisional government collapsed and it was everyone for themselves?” Yeosang scowls but snidely thinks that he left _before_ the provisional government collapsed. “I find it hard to believe you’d go searching for help considering how reluctant you are to be here. You only do things in trade.” 

“It’s how I survive,” Yeosang defends. “And I could have very well traded something in return for treatment.” 

“Trade with what?” Hongjoong counters. “Wooyoung was right. You’ve been nomadic. You probably trade your services in exchange for food, no?” 

Yeosang sighs. “Alright, you got me. I did stitch myself back up.” He turns his head away at the smug look on Hongjoong’s face. “Is that what you want from me? Someone to patch you up and in exchange you’ll give me food and water?” 

“Like I said, we’re in need of someone with your skills. Plus we can keep you safe. We’ve been here for over two years, and we’re still doing fine for ourselves.” 

Yeosang licks his lips. He’ll see about that. “What about you? You survived the war.” 

“Never really fought in it,” Hongjoong admits. “I graduated from military school in the middle of project QUEEN. By then they shifted most of the front line duties to Revenants.” 

“They didn’t try to make you one?” he asks, swallowing thickly. 

“I wasn’t dead nor dying. And I wasn’t compatible for the project. I just watched everything unfold from the sidelines.” He clenches his fists, and Yeosang winces. 

“And the others?” he asks, changing the topic. 

Hongjoong shrugs. “Jongho and San were civilians,” he says. Yeosang files that name away. San. He supposes that’s the only one he hasn’t met yet. “Wooyoung is...I don’t know. I picked him up not long after Jongho and San came to me. He doesn’t talk much about his past, but he’s a fighter so I trust him to take care of himself.” 

“So you just....took them all in?” 

“The chances of survival are greater in numbers,” Hongjoong tells him. 

“That depends,” Yeosang disagrees. The dark haired man is silent at that, looking at the ground with a pensive expression on his face. Again, Yeosang feels that there’s something he isn’t telling him, but before he can ask what it is, Hongjoong tells him that he’ll show him the small medical wing available tomorrow, and then he leaves. 

Yeosang gingerly sits on the edge of his cot, looking around the room again. He wonders if this decision is going to cost him. 

  
  
  
  


Hongjoong comes by in the morning with a plate of food. A generous portion of food. Yeosang feels his stomach twist with hunger as he eyes the plate. “We try to ration more responsibly then this,” he tells him, handing it over with a small smile. “But you look really hungry.” 

Yeosang takes the plate and the underlying message. He’s trying to build trust. And, eyeing the food available, perhaps Yeosang had initially underestimated just what kinds of resources these four have available to them. “Thanks,” he says quietly. Hongjoong nods his head in acknowledgement before he moves to lean against the small dresser. 

He waits patiently as Yeosang begins to eat, mulling over a few questions that have been rolling around in his head since he met the medic. Reading people has always come easy for him, and it’s a skill he’s especially honed and mastered in the last few years. Sometimes it feels like the difference between life and death. He can tell a lot just by observing the medic and listening to his words, but there’s also a lot the other seems intent on hiding. 

“Do you mind if I ask you something?” he breaks the silence. 

Yeosang pauses in his eating to glance over at him, cheeks rounded out with food. “Depends,” he says after swallowing. “Am I allowed to ask something in exchange?” 

Hongjoong smirks. “Sure,” he agrees easily enough. The next bite the brunette takes is slow, but he nods his head to indicate that Hongjoong can go ahead. “You asked me yesterday why I wasn’t considered to be turned,” he points out. Yeosang takes another bite of his food, giving nothing away. “You seemed familiar with them. The Revenants, I mean. Or the process. Were you?” 

He chews slowly, eyes fixed down on his plate. “I’d seen the process a few times,” he admits. “I was there more as an assistant to the surgery and to attend to the patients until they woke up. Beyond that, I suppose I took care of some here and there out in the field.” 

“Even though you’re a trained medic?” Hongjoong asks. Revenants weren’t exactly known for their need of medical attention. Fatal wounds forced their cells to disperse so long as the parasite implanted in their heart lived, and they would reform better than new. 

“They still required maintenance of their blood lust,” Yeosang points out. “I helped oversee that. Revenants were great soldiers, but if they frenzied they were as good as useless to us.” He peeks at the dark haired man over his shoulder. “What about you? You said you didn’t see much action.” 

“Yes,” Hongjoong says, picking at some imaginary threads on his shirt. “The Revenants had basically repelled the horrors of the Great Collapse when I was technically ready to be deployed. Things were looking good, like humanity could recover, and I would live to see it. And then they created the fucking Queen. I lost a lot of friends in the war with her.” He looks over to Yeosang who has his back to him, but his head is tilted to the side. He’s listening intently, probably trying to learn something. “Fucking idiots they were. We were _winning_.” 

Yeosang sets his fork down on his plate and hums. “Indeed,” he agrees. “A truly useless project.” 

“Well, because of all the Revenants they had to keep making to stop _her_ I was forced to become a Donor.” For the first time, Yeosang visibly flinches at the fact. Hongjoong files that away for further investigation. “I guess it wasn’t the worst conditions. I’d rather that than the way I’m sure Revenants use any humans they find _now_ , but,” he shrugs his shoulders. “We were basically livestock for the war effort.” 

“I’m sorry,” Yeosang says to him sincerely. Hongjoong believes he’s genuine. 

“You didn’t become one?” 

“I—we were exempt because of our service.” 

A twinge of bitterness tugs at Hongjoong’s heart. “I can’t help but think of how ironic it all is. We thought the Great Collapse was the end of the world at the time, but it was only the beginning. Human engineered their own demise with these fucking Revenants.” Yeosang says nothing to that. Not that it matters because Hongjoong continues ranting anyways. “They served a purpose at first, but the urgent need to make one _better_ —and now we’re practically overrun by them. Maybe they were necessary at first, but the less of them there are the better.” 

“You’ve killed some before?” Yeosang asks. 

“Yeah, struck them,” he pounds his chest with his fist, right where his heart is, “right through the heart. They wanted to feed off me, and I promised myself I’d never do that again. I’d never give a Revenant another drop of my blood.” He looks at Yeosang’s back. “What about you? You used to work with them.” He eyes the choker around Yeosang’s neck, hiding the bite scars. “Do you not hate them?” 

Wordlessly, he lifts his left arm up, displaying his scar for Hongjoong to see. “A human gave me this,” he said. “Tried to kill me for some food I had on me. I don’t really like either Revenants or humans.” 

Hongjoong’s finger twitches against the hem of his shirt. “Did you kill him?” Yeosang turns his head to meet Hongjoong’s eyes and the hardened look in his gaze is enough of an answer. 

“Revenants are dangerous, especially if they’re at risk of losing themselves to blood lust and frenzying, but they’d be stupid not to keep you alive. Humans will kill no questions asked if it means they might live just an hour longer,” Yeosang mutters. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


The medical wing on the base is fairly small, but, Yeosang notes, it is surprisingly well stocked. Hongjoong hadn’t been lying about that. He digs through the various cabinets and drawers, taking stock of what he has to work with. It’s as he’s going through the items that he notes with dismay that many of the materials are expired. Yeosang contemplates what to do with the expired materials for a while because his training tells him to throw it out, but the survivalist in him says that it’s not like he’ll really be able to restock these items with fresh batches. In the end he goes through them individually, throwing out the expired items that _clearly_ look unusable while hoarding the ones that seem less fishy. 

Hongjoong watches him curiously the entire time. He’d taken a seat on one of the cots in the ward, leaning against the bed frame as he watched him work. 

He’s going through a cabinet of medicine, taking note of what medicines are available and, again, the expiration date when he’s interrupted by a knock at the door. He looks up because he left the door open and stiffens when he sees Jongho standing there. The young man looks agitated as he pushes an unfamiliar face into the room. 

“Here,” he grunts out. “I brought him like you asked, Hongjoong.” 

He herds the unfamiliar boy into the room as Hongjoong perks up from his spot on the bed. “Thanks Jongho,” he says while Yeosang eyes the newcomer with equal parts curiosity and concern. His gaze wanders to Jongho who doesn’t move, practically blocking the doorway with his frame. 

Odd.

This is probably San, he thinks to himself. There’s four of them here, and he’s already met three of them. What concerns him though is the state of the boy. He’s alarmingly thin and gaunt, his skin pale except around his cheeks which seem to be flush with a fever. He has some prominent dark circles under his eyes and he’s just standing in the middle of the room shivering even though it’s quite warm this time of year. He crosses his arms and hunches down into himself when he catches Yeosang staring, turning away to face Hongjoong instead. “Did you need something?” he asks in a small voice. 

Hongjoong jumps up from the bed, rushing over to the boy and guiding him over to the little exam table across from the cabinet Yeosang has been rifling through. “Here, sit down.” He helps the kid up, talking to him in hushed whispers for a moment before he finally turns to Yeosang. “I want you to look him over,” he requests. 

Slowly, Yeosang pushes himself to his feet, eyes darting between the three people in the room. Something about the dynamic feels strange. Based on the way Jongho had spoken yesterday, Yeosang had assumed some kind of bad blood between him and San, but while he still doesn’t seem happy, he handled him gently. Hongjoong, too, appeared to treat him delicately, but, looking at him, Yeosang would almost think of him as some kind of victim. All of them are thin—Yeosang has gone days without food before—and while he might not yet characterize this boy as malnourished, he certainly doesn’t seem to be well taken care of. 

He approaches the table cautiously. “Are you San?” he asks when he’s close enough that his voice will carry. He looks up at the name, black hair falling into his eyes. Then he looks at Hongjoong who nods his head once in an encouraging gesture. 

He looks back at Yeosang and dips his head in acknowledgement. “Yeah,” he says in a weak voice. “I’m San.” 

Yeosang glances over to Hongjoong, catching the leader’s eyes. His gaze is accusatory. Is this a test? What’s with this kid? He’s not entirely sure which one he’s trying to portray, but Hongjoong turns his head away. “San came down with a fever a few days ago,” he explains. “Since you’re here now, I figured you could take a look at him.” 

“Hyung,” San addresses Hongjoong. He glances at Yeosang wearily. “Who is he?” 

“He’s a doctor,” Hongjoong tells him. 

Yeosang keeps a straight face. “Yes,” he agrees with Hongjoong. “I am, now if you could please move away.” He makes a little shooing motion with his hands at Hongjoong. The dark haired man frowns at him. “Patient confidentiality and all,” he defends. 

“No,” San protests when Hongjoong takes a step back. He reaches for him like a child seeking comfort. “I want him to stay.” Yeosang looks between the two of them, suspicions rising at the action. 

“Okay,” he agrees reluctantly, a little disappointed that he couldn’t get San at least a little more isolated. He shrugs it off though, opening the drawers and cabinets of the counter next to the table. “I’d like to just take a look at some of your vitals first,” he tells him. He pulls out some alcohol wipes, a thermometer, and an old stethoscope. On the counter he unravels the sphygmomanometer and then turns to San. He looks nervous, eyeing all the items Yeosang has laid out. “I’m Yeosang,” he introduces himself, hoping to dissipate at least some of the tension. 

San looks away from him, turning towards Hongjoong. Yeosang presses his lips together, unsure how he feels about this. “Can I take your pulse?” he asks, holding his hand out for San. He peers up at him through dark bangs but lifts a delicate looking hand up to place it, palm up, in Yeosang’s. He feels really cold though he has been shivering this whole time. 

Yeosang looks around the medical ward. There’s a clock above the door Jongho seems to be guarding, but it’s busted. He figures as much. Pressing two fingers against San’s pulse point, he does his best to just estimate the guy’s pulse. It feels normal enough. He pulls away, checking his own pulse for a comparison. Then he scoots around the table to grab the sphygmomanometer. Delicately lifting up the sleeve of San’s t-shirt, he wraps the rubber cuff around his upper arm. Looking over at the scale attached to it, he hopes the thing is at least a little accurate. 

He brings the stethoscope up, placing the ear plugs in his ear and fitting the bell of it underneath the rubber cuff. He goes through practice motions, listening to the sound of San’s pulse as he inflates the cuff. When it stops he glances over to the scale before releasing the pressure, watching as the needle of the scale drops. His eyebrows knit together, and when the cuff is fully deflated he pulls away and unwraps the cuff. “I don’t know if that thing is accurate,” he admits. “Your blood pressure is a little low.” Not so low that Yeosang is alarmed, but it’s concerning. Is his blood pressure low because of his current state or is his blood pressure playing a part in his current state? 

“I’ve always had low blood pressure,” San tells him. Okay, so the equipment might still be working accurately. “It’s probably right then. Is it bad?” 

“Not alarmingly so,” Yeosang tells him. “And I suppose if you’ve always had it I’m a little less concerned.” He rolls up the cuff and removes the stethoscope from his ear. Tearing open the alcohol packet, he wipes down the thermometer as thoroughly as he can. The one that can go into the ear is broken and won’t turn on so Yeosang resorts to this simply one. He prompts San to open his mouth, sticking it under his tongue and then has him close around it. The scrawny boy makes a face at the faint taste of alcohol but does as he’s told. 

“Do you have any wounds anywhere?” he asks, stepping back to look him over. San shakes his head. 

“Why do you ask?” Hongjoong questions. 

Yeosang shoots him a quick glance, still suspicious. “Trying to figure out if it’s bacterial or viral. If he’s got an infected wound, case solved.” Despite San’s denial, Yeosang’s eyes narrow in on his left arm. He’d taken his heart rate and blood pressure on his right, and hadn’t noticed it before, but his inner elbow is littered with little puncture marks. He reaches out to grab his arm, bringing it closer for inspection, but San jerks away from him. 

When Yeosang looks up, his expression is guarded and defensive. He pulls the thermometer from his mouth and hands it to the doctor. “You’re definitely running a fever,” he confirms. “What are your symptoms?” 

“Throat hurts,” San tells him. “And my nose feels stuffy.” 

“It sounds like a bacterial infection,” Yeosang tells him. “You’ve been sick for just a few days?” He nods his head, meek persona back in place. “For now I’d just drink fluids and get plenty of rest. If your fever isn’t down or it gets worse in a few days we can try some antibiotics.” He’s not sure if they’ll work. They’re expired. 

Yeosang finds his gaze drawn back to his left arm, and his lips twitch a little in annoyance. “Are you prone to self harm?” he asks. Both Hongjoong and San snap their heads up at the question. 

“No, why would you ask that?” Hongjoong demands. He sounds angry. 

“You wanted me to see a patient,” Yeosang snaps at him. “I’m just doing my job.” He motions to San’s arm. “I need to know what those are from.” 

“No,” he covers his arm up as if that will cause Yeosang to forget. “It’s not self harm. I do it for a reason.” Yeosang raises his eyebrows at that, and Hongjoong hisses San’s name. He seems to realize he’s made some kind of mistake because his eyes widen, and he looks away. Yeosang shifts his weight to one leg and looks between the two of them. They’re both reticent. Out of curiosity he turns his body just enough to sneak a peek at Jongho who seems annoyed. Clearly it’s a blunder, and they all know it. 

San hugs his knees to his chest, planting his feet on the edge of the table. “I—can you...draw blood?” he asks curiously. 

“Are you...sick?” he asks carefully, unsure of why he would be attempting to draw his own blood. It’s been a while since he has, but Yeosang theoretically knows how to. Nobody answers him, and Yeosang has a feeling that he’s not looking for blood work. “Yes,” he answers slowly. San’s eyes brighten at the prospect. “Do you need your blood drawn?” 

San looks imploringly at Hongjoong who shakes his head once. “Hyung,” San whines, grasping Hongjoong’s arm. He peeks at Yeosang and tugs insistently on Hongjoong’s arm. “Please.” 

“I can do it,” Yeosang volunteers because San is so clearly desperate. He hates to admit it, but they do have a lot available for him, and his best chance for survival might just be sticking around here for now. He wants to try to establish some trust. “I won’t ask.” 

San stares at Hongjoong imploringly, and finally the leader gives in. “Fine,” he agrees. Faintly, Yeosang hears Jongho scoff behind him. 

“Okay, just give me a second.” Yeosang pulls away from the two of them to go digging for something to use. He still hasn’t quite oriented himself to the place, so he takes a moment digging through various drawers and cabinets for the items he’ll need. Eventually he finds a needle still in its packaging along with tubing. He pauses when he yanks open a drawer with bags and tubes. He picks up one of the small tubes. “Will this be enough,” he asks, holding the item up for San. 

He shakes his head just as Hongjoong tells him, “that’s fine.” Yeosang hesitates, looking at the tube in his hand. San starts tugging on Hongjoong’s sleeve again until the leader sighs. “Actually, we’ll need more than that.” He places the tube back and grabs one of the little blood bags, closing the drawer with his hip. He grabs a pair of medium gloves that are uncomfortably big on his hands, but he can’t find anything else and makes his way back over. 

He tries hard not to let the apprehension show on his face. Right now isn’t the time to start grilling them on the point of this. They’ll only clam up. Plus, he thinks—purposefully avoiding Hongjoong’s gaze—the man is incredibly good at reading him. So he stays focused on the items in his hand, mentally running through the procedure and reminding himself to grab another alcohol wipe while thinking up reasons why San would possibly need this. Especially given his current state. 

Only one logical conclusion comes to mind. 

Placing his items on the table next to San, he quickly pulls on the gloves and begins assembling his device. He threads one end of the tubing into the needle and places the other into the bag. He couldn’t find a tourniquet, so he asks Hongjoong if he’ll cut up a sheet for him. It’ll make do. 

Blood is a precious resource nowadays. It’s entirely possible that they’re selling it in exchange for something—supplies maybe. His own theory feels further solidified by the fact that they already told him of a small group of Revenants to the north who seem content to set up shop nearby. Perhaps they actually have at least a business-like relationship. 

Hongjoong hands him the little strip of sheet he tore up, and San holds out his left arm. Yeosang shakes his head, motioning for his right arm instead. San hesitates but complys “You’re right-handed, right?” he asks just to be safe. San furrows his brows in confusion and nods his head. “I want to do your dominant hand. You’re quite skinny so it’ll already be kind of hard to find a vein, so I need you to flex as hard as you can.” 

Instinctively, San follows that order and flexes. Yeosang shakes his head with a small laugh. “Not right now. When I tell you.” He ties the tourniquet around his arm tightly then tells him to flex. San does, but it doesn’t really help Yeosang much. He’s just too small, and he seems too weak and tired to flex correctly. Yeosang does his best to work with it, feeling along San’s forearm and elbow for a vein. When he’s fairly confident he’s found one big enough, he tears open another little alcohol wipe, quickly wiping down the spot. He feels out the vein again with his left hand and lifts up the needle with his right. Wordlessly, he punctures the skin, breathing a little sigh of relief when blood begins to flow out and into the bag. 

It takes a few minutes. Yeosang keeps flitting his gaze back and forth between the bag and San. It’s not completely full when Yeosang gently pulls the needle out and rips open a little bandaid to put over the wound. San had started to breath a little erratically towards the end, and Yeosang worries about depleting his blood volume too quickly. He undoes the tourniquet and, unsure of what to do with it, offers the blood bag to Hongjoong. 

The dark haired man shies away from him though, pointing instead to San. With a carefully blank expression, he offers it to San who takes it with a quiet thank you, quickly hopping off the examination table and rushing out of the room. Jongho grunts when he breezes by but doesn’t try to stop him. 

Yeosang stares down at the equipment. Are they trading blood to those Revenants? Is San the only one doing it? And, if so, why? Instead of voicing these thoughts, he looks at Hongjoong and asks, “How should I dispose of this?” 

  
  
  
  
  


San has to take a moment to lean against the wall on his way down the stairs. A dizzying spell comes over him halfway down, and he has to stop and squeeze his eyes shut. Faintly he can hear footsteps following behind him, and then a warm hand wraps around his arm. 

“Are you okay?” Jongho asks him. 

“Dizzy,” San explains. 

“You shouldn’t be down here,” the younger scolds him. “You’re sick, and you heard Yeosang. You should be resting.” 

“I rest plenty,” San argues as he finally opens his eyes. The dizziness is fading, but he still feels weak as if his legs are made of jelly. 

“I mean in a _bed_.” 

San shakes his head stubbornly and shrugs off Jongho’s touch. “I’m fine,” he insists, taking one more step before promptly slipping. He cries out as he basically falls the rest of the way down the stairs, blood bag falling out of his grip. Jongho shouts in alarm, rushing down the stairs to see if he’s alright. Groaning, San cups the small of his back and repeats, “I’m fine.” 

“You’re fucking not,” he snaps back. San just groans again, pressing his temple into the cool ground. With an annoyed sigh, Jongho gets up because the elder evidently isn’t dying and picks up the bag from the floor. “I’ll do it,” he grumbles petulantly. 

“Wait, Jongho, I can still—” he moves to get up, gasping in pain and collapsing back on the ground. 

“Stop being an idiot,” Jongho tells him. He strides to the door of the only occupied cell, glaring at it. There’s a little flap at the bottom that’s just big enough to slide it through, and Jongho aggressively shoves the bag into it. There’s no noise on the other side of the door except the sound of the bag being picked up. Spitefully Jongho kicks it. “I hope you’re fucking grateful.” There is no response. 

Huffing, Jongho retreats back to San, helping the older man to his feet. “Come on,” he encourages, basically lifting him up the stairs. San struggles a little in his grip, but he doesn’t put up much of a fight in Jongho’s hold. He protests, but the younger isn’t having any of it. “He’ll be _fine_. No one else will come down here tonight. Just sleep in your bed for fuck’s sake.” He lifts San up and over his shoulder when he won’t stop fighting though, and immediately the older man goes limp. He knows it’s not worth fighting. 

“Why are you like this?” San asks quietly. 

“I could ask you the same fucking question,” Jongho retorts. 

He carries San all the way back to his room and tells him to get a good night’s sleep. Jongho isn’t at all surprised when he drops by the next morning to see the bed empty and long since cold. San hadn’t slept there at all. He isn’t surprised, but he’s sure as hell disappointed. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


Perhaps this is what they’re keeping from him, Yeosang thinks as he organizes the medical ward in a way that makes more sense to him. He’s tossed any and all items he’s certain he can’t use. It’s taken a few days, but so far no one else is really in need of any medical attention. Maybe they’re trading blood for other resources, and they don’t want to tell him for fear of his reaction. Hongjoong had asked his opinion on Revenants earlier. Still, he can’t get over the clearly deteriorating state San seems to be in compared to the others. If that was the case, why was San the only one apparently giving up his blood? 

In that time though, San comes back, complaining that his fever isn’t abating though it isn’t getting worse either. Reluctantly, Yeosang portions out a regimen of antibiotics for San, lecturing him to take them once a day for two weeks. No skipping. San agrees then asks if Yeosang will perform another blood draw for him. 

“Another?” Yeosang asks with a raised brow. It’s a little bit easier to let his guard down when it’s just San around. He’s not worried about someone picking him apart under a microscope. San is sheepish but adamant. “Do you typically take your own blood this often?” Yeosang isn’t sure if he should oblige. Even a healthy adult shouldn’t be drawing blood too often, but he worries especially because of San’s low blood pressure. 

“I—yes,” San answers tentatively, apparently realizing he’ll do himself no favors by lying about it. 

“And what in the hell would you need to be doing that for?” Yeosang crosses his arms over his chest. 

San hangs his head, dark hair falling in disarray around his face. It’s been a few days, but he looks worse for wear. Maybe it’s the fever. Maybe it’s the—apparently—frequent blood draws. Yeosang can’t say for sure. “I’m not allowed to tell you,” he says meekly. 

Yeosang rolls his eyes. Great. “Well, my professional opinion is that I shouldn’t. You’re sick, and your blood pressure is low. I don’t want to draw for you.” 

“But it’s important,” San protests, lifting his head up to give him an imploring look. “Please.” 

But Yeosang shakes his head. “If it’s so important then bring me someone else. I’ll draw their blood instead.” 

San freezes at the suggestion, looking at Yeosang like he’s seen a ghost. “N-no,” he protests. “I can’t. _You_ can’t.” 

“Then I guess there’s no blood today,” the medic says. He starts to clean up when San grabs him by the arm. 

“Please. You have to. And I can’t ask the others because no one else will do it,” he tells the brunette. Yeosang gives him a stern look only to be surprised when he sees the other is near tears. “It’s important,” he repeats. 

The medic releases an exasperated breath. “Then why won’t anyone else volunteer?” he asks. 

“They just won’t, and I can’t ask them to,” San says vaguely. When Yeosang refuses to budge, continuing in his cleaning, he fists his hands into his black hair. “ _Please,_ if you won’t do it, I’ll just do it again myself,” he begs again. Yeosang frowns, thinking of all the little puncture wounds littering his left arm, but he remains stoic. “Jongho and Hongjoong were both conscripted to be Blood Donors during the war effort. They wouldn’t do it.” Yeosang can’t say he blames them. Conditions for Blood Donors had been appalling due to the need for mass production of a blood source for soldiers. Yeosang isn’t quite familiar with them, but he’s heard enough stories. 

“Wooyoung?” he asks instead. He hasn’t seen the blond around much in all honesty. Wooyoung seems to disappear during the day, so Yeosang only sees him sometimes in the evening. 

“Especially not him,” San says. 

“Well, why not?” 

“He—” San looks around like he’s afraid the walls have ears. 

“I won’t tell anyone,” Yeosang assures him. 

Guiltily, he looks down at his lap. “He had just escaped a Revenant when he wound up here. He was being held hostage as a…” he trails off, but Yeosang knows how that story ends. A forced blood donor more or less, but all the more horrific because Revenants would just feast on their victim as they saw fit. “He had killed her and run away.” 

“So, you are giving it to a Revenant?” Yeosang concludes. San snaps his head up, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. Yeosang smiles to himself. He totally got him. “It’s okay,” he assures him. “I understand. You’re trying to survive out here. Just being alive gives you a precious resource to hold above a Revenant’s head.” San doesn’t look as if he quite understands, but he nods his head anyways. “I don’t know why you all are trying to keep it a secret. _I’ve_ given my blood in exchange for things I needed before.” 

“Really?” San asks. 

“Yeah. You just gotta be careful.” He fingers his choker with a pensive expression. “I’ve ran into my fair share of Revenant’s who take more than agreed upon.” 

“Aren’t you....scared of them though?” San asks him. 

“Some,” Yeosang agrees, “not all.” It’s the third generation of Revenants he really fears. The ones who woke up after the fall of the provisional government. They’d woken up in a time when everything fell to shit, and, not understanding the strain among already existing resources due to the war, they only made things worse. Any of them could be awful, but he finds that the ones who lived through the war could be reasoned with. “Are you not scared?” 

“I’m scared of most of them,” San says. He swallows down a lump in his throat as he stares at his hands. “Not all though.” 

With a sigh, Yeosang reluctantly agrees. “Okay, but I’m not taking as much as last time to be safe. And for the love of God, I want you to be resting whenever you’re not doing something important. You’ll need proper sleep to fight off this infection.” San doesn’t seem completely satisfied, but he agrees nonetheless. He leaves the ward with another little bag of blood in hand. 

  
  
  
  
  


At night, he checks in on San to see how he’s feeling and to make sure he gets some sleep, but the black haired man isn’t in his room. Yeosang grits his teeth in annoyance. What part of rest, fluids, and antibiotics did he not understand? Leaving the room, he searches instead for Hongjoong. Perhaps he knows where San is. 

As he comes up on Hongjoong’s room, however, he hears voices coming from inside. He halts in the hallway, ears straining to listen. It sounds like Hongjoong and someone else. He shrugs it off, maybe if he’s lucky it’s San who’s in there talking to him, but then his whole body tenses up when he very clearly hears the suggestion, “I told you we should have killed him.” 

His immediate thought is that they’re talking about him. He’s the newest one here after all, and the other four seem to have some kind of trust established between them. Quietly, Yeosang edges closer to the door to see if he can pick up on any more of the conversation. 

“Jongho, I don’t want to discuss this right now.” 

“Why not?” he hears the younger man growl at Hongjoong. Yeosang raises his eyebrows at the way he talks to him. 

“San wouldn’t survive it.” 

“He’s already dying!” Jongho argues. “Every day this is killing him. Everytime that fucking moron takes more of his blood. He _can’t handle this, Hongjoong_.” 

He hears Hongjoong sigh and then the sounds of footsteps like he’s pacing around. “And your solution is to kill him? What will you tell San?” 

“That it’s for his own good.” Yeosang holds his breath. It’s obvious now that they’re _not_ talking about him but he doesn’t know _who_ they are talking about. It sounds like someone San cares deeply about. 

“I can’t do it,” Hongjoong says in a whisper. “I don’t like it either, but I can’t do that to San. Or you.” 

“But I’m asking for it!” Jongho yells. “And, if anything, do I not have more of a right? More of a say in what happens? At this rate he’ll frenzy because San can’t keep up. He’s a danger to us all!” Yeosang bites down on his lips to hold in a gasp. A sinking feeling takes over his gut. What the hell are they talking about? 

“And if I gave you the key right now, are you telling me you would march past San, that you would hurt him because you know he’d fight you, and stab that thing through the heart?” Hongjoong asks, voice raising in volume with every word. 

A beat of silence passes between them before Yeosang hears Jongho say, “Yes,” in a shaky voice. 

“You’re a liar, Jongho.” 

“Then Wooyoung—” 

“I said no, Jongho.” 

It’s quiet for a while after that. Long enough that Yeosang figures now is his opportunity to jump in like he hadn’t overheard that conversation. He takes the last few steps to round the corner of Hongjoong’s door, calling out for him as he does so. He visibly startles when he sees Jongho there, acting like he hadn’t expected to see the younger man. Jongho stares at him with a tense expression, eyes narrowed. 

“I…” Yeosang looks between the two of them. “Have I interrupted something?” he asks. 

“No,” Hongjoong replies stiffly. “Did you need something?” 

“I was looking for San,” he explains, noticing the way Jongho’s jaw clenches. “His fever isn’t going down, so I told him I wanted him to be resting, but he’s not in his room. I thought maybe you knew where he was.” 

“I’ll go get him,” Jongho volunteers gruffly before making his swift exit. Yeosang watches him go with a concerned expression. Of everyone here, he understands the youngest the least. Well, maybe he doesn’t really understand Wooyoung either, but he hardly sees him. Jongho though, Yeosang can’t get a read on him. Half the time he seems quick to anger if he’s not already angry. The other half of the time he seems bizarrely doting of San and reverent to Hongjoong. 

“Is he alright?” he asks when Jongho is gone. 

Hongjoong’s shoulders slump. “He’ll be okay,” he says though he doesn’t sound like he believes his own words. “Things have just been a little rough lately.” 

“Define lately,” Yeosang requests. He’s worried, if only because this whole group seems ready to collapse at any second. He doesn’t really want to be around for the fallout. 

“Few months,” Hongjoong admits. 

Yeosang files that information away. They’ve been here for at least two years, that’s what Hongjoong told him the first day, so things must have been okay for the most part. But within the last few months something has been causing tension. Yeosang suspects it’s got something to do with this Revenant they’d been discussing. He doesn’t really understand what’s going on, but it’s got his hackles raised. 

Maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe they’re not using San’s blood for trade, so then, he wonders grimly, what the hell are they using it for? 

  
  
  
  


Things are quiet for the next few days. Wooyoung comes to him after a day out because of a slightly alarming cut on his upper right arm. “What did you do?” he asks the blond, carefully expecting the wound. He concludes that it probably doesn’t need stitches. He’ll just need to clean it up and keep it bandaged. 

Wooyoung shrugs his shoulders. “I was just hunting,” he replies vaguely. 

“Hunting for what?” Yeosang asks as he pulls on a pair of gloves and preps some antiseptic and cotton pads. It’s really a rhetorical question. He doesn’t expect Wooyoung to answer. He’s not much of a hunter himself, tending to scavenge or trade for food and other necessities, but he’s certain there are dangers when it comes to hunting. 

Nevertheless, Wooyoung says, “For food.” Yeosang supposes he expected that answer. He wets a cotton pad with the antiseptic when the blond adds, “For Revenants.” The medic sets the bottle of antiseptic down on the counter and looks over his shoulder to Wooyoung who’s grinning at him. 

“You hunt Revenants?” he asks, coming over to stand next to Wooyoung. He warns him that this will hurt before he starts to carefully clean the wound. 

Wooyoung hisses but, other than that, shows no signs of pain. “When I can afford to,” he answers. “If I find one wandering around.” Yeosang doesn’t look at him, focusing on making sure his wound is cleaned properly. The blond stares at him critically. “You sound like you disapprove.” 

“I hold no sympathy for Revenants,” Yeosang immediately defends. _Mostly_ , he thinks to himself. “But what you’re doing is incredibly dangerous and stupid.” 

“I’ve won every time,” Wooyoung boasts. Yeosang wants to ask how many times just to prove a point, but he doesn’t. He’s admittedly a little afraid to know. 

“Whatever. Do what you want just be careful,” Yeosang tells him, tossing the used cotton pad in the trash. He picks up a roll of gauze and begins to expertly wrap up the wound. “We’ll check on it before bed time. You’ll probably need another change of bandages then. Let me know if it starts hurting more. It’ll be bad if it gets infected.” He cuts the gauze and secures it before turning to put his supplies away. 

Wooyoung rolls his shoulder a couple of times, testing his mobility and groaning when he clearly doesn’t feel too comfortable moving his arm around. Yeosang almost snorts. “Hey,” he calls when the blond hops off his examination table. He waits until he has his attention. “I don’t care if you think you’re invincible enough to hunt Revenants. You leave that group up north alone.” 

Wooyoung sneers at him. “What? You know them?” It’s part sarcastic, part suspicious. They found him nearby after all. 

“Of course not, but _you_ don’t either. You’ve admitted that you don’t even know how many there are.” He turns to lean against the counter. “Revenants don’t typically form groups. They have a very dog eat dog mentality. I’m just giving you some friendly advice. Don’t take on a group. You’ll get yourself killed.” 

Wooyoung glares at him with narrowed eyes full of suspicion. “You sure know an awful lot about them,” he notes with a dangerous edge to his voice. 

“Know thy enemy,” Yeosang quotes to him. “It’s a wonder you’ve survived with your kill first, think later mentality.” 

“I didn’t kill _you_ ,” Wooyoung points out. “And I know everything I need to know. Kill the parasite and those fuckers can’t come back.” 

“Something is starting to tell me that Jongho is the only reason I’m alive,” Yeosang bites back. “And knowing how to kill them is not key to your success. I’m not here to argue with you. I just don’t want you coming back half dead or worse next time.” 

“Whatever,” Wooyoung scoffs. “You don’t know anything.” 

Yeosang scowls as he leaves the medical ward. He knows plenty. Although, there is definitely something these guys are hiding from him, and he’s determined to get to the bottom of it. 

  
  
  
  
  


San comes to him again a few days after the last time he was there. His fever has gone down and despite his still gaunt frame, he looks a little bit better. Yeosang reminds him that he still wants him to take those antibiotics even if he feels better, but that’s not why San came to him. No, it never seems to be the reason. He comes with the same request he has every time. 

Blood draws. 

In spite of the million and one questions running through his head and the absolute certainty that this has something to do with whatever secret they’re trying to keep from him, Yeosang keeps his mouth shut. He only asks how San is feeling. “Are you dizzy? Do you feel weak?” 

“No, I feel fine.” 

He doesn’t exchange any more words with San. Quietly and quickly doing as he’s asked. He’s cleaning up the used materials when San leaves, and he waits only a few seconds to finish hastily dumping everything before he follows. He peeks around the corner of his door, watching as San leaves through the front entrance before he casually follows after him. In the courtyard of the base, he feels a little strange because there’s not a whole lot to hide behind. So he follows San from a distance, walking as quietly as he can. 

In the middle of the courtyard is an old blood tree, it’s blood beads having long been picked. The white bark of the tree has begun to peel off, leaving it in a decrepit state of decline. He’s not surprised by its presence, had noticed it the first day. Many of the rushed military bases and camps created during the war with the Queen were built around blood trees or blood springs in order to meet the needs of the Revenants created to fight. He hides behind the large trunk of the tree, peeking around it to watch San make his way into a building he is unfamiliar with. There’s plenty in the camp that don’t seem to be utilized by the human occupants. With just four—now five—of them it makes sense. This was one of those buildings Yeosang thought was unused. 

Frowning, he steps out from behind the tree and begins to make his way over. He scans the open courtyard, but no one else is around. Yeosang isn’t entirely sure what the others get up to during the day. Hongjoon primarily asks him to maintain the medical ward and help with kitchen duties when there’s a lull. He enters the building after San. 

It’s a one story building, and he pokes his head through the doorway to briefly scout it out. It looks like an old office area. Unused and in disarray. San is nowhere to be seen. Frowning, Yeosang enters the building. He walks carefully and quietly, exploring the space with a pensive expression. It doesn’t look like anybody really uses this for anything. What the hell was San doing in it and where did he go? There’s a door in the far corner of the office room that Yeosang makes his way towards. When he opens it, he’s greeted with a staircase that descends and what feels like a ball of apprehension gets stuck in his throat. 

He gives the first floor one last scan before tentatively taking the first step. 

San takes a moment to catch his breath when he reaches the basement with the prison cells. Yeosang hadn’t taken much, but it still was enough to make him dizzy again. Clutching the blood bag in one hand, he places the heel of his palm against his forehead with the other, trying to shake it off. It takes a moment of just standing there, leaning against the wall for support until his head stops spinning. 

He makes his way to the one closed door in the block and slowly kneels down by it. He rests his forehead against the door, taking in a few more deep breaths. “How are you doing?” he asks. 

“Fine,” is the response he receives. It’s a lie, and they both know it. Gritting his teeth, San forces himself not to pitifully cry. He wants to see how he’s doing, but the little flap at the top has long since rusted shut, and Hongjoong refuses to give him the key. He hates it. Hasn’t seen the other’s face in so long. “Is the angry one here?” 

The question snaps San back to reality. “No. It’s just me.” He reaches down to lift open the small flap at the bottom of the door, sliding the bag inside. “Here,” he says, “I know it’s probably not enough but—” he’s interrupted by a small little gasp. His head snaps in the direction of the sound, staring with fearful eyes at Yeosang. The medic is standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking back at him with an equally spooked expression. 

“Who’s that?” the voice on the other side asks. “I don’t recognize him.” 

It occurs to San that a great mistake has been made when Yeosang turns and darts up the stairs. “W-wait!” he cries out, jumping to his feet a little too quickly. His vision spots with dark circles for a moment before he races to catch up to the medic. 

  
  
  
  
  


Yeosang doesn’t look back as he bursts out of the front door and into the courtyard. He isn’t particularly worried about San who looks like he’s apt to fall over at any moment. No, he’s entirely focused on one person. He faintly hears San trying to catch up with him, desperately calling his name. If he were paying attention, he might have noticed the fact that the other is near tears, but he just keeps running to the main hall. 

He finds Hongjoong in the kitchen talking to Wooyoung. They both pause when he practically flies through the door. Wooyoung stares at him like he’s lost his mind while Hongjoong looks concerned. He doesn’t give either of them a chance to talk, launching himself at Hongjoong with a yell. The older man yelps, catching Yeosang around the waist and struggling to stay upright though he manages. 

“You _fucking_ liar,” he screams at him, fisting his fingers into Hongjoong’s shirt. 

Wooyoung takes a couple of steps back, observing the whole spectacle in shock. Hongjoong manages to push Yeosang away right as San runs into the kitchen with tears in his eyes. “Wait! Please, I can explain.” 

“What the hell is going on?” Hongjoong demands. 

It’s quiet for a moment. Yeosang looks between the three of them, jaw clenched tightly. Wooyoung takes another step back. He doesn’t want any part in this. And San—San looks like he’s ready to say something, but Hongjoong pins him with a look that has him shutting his mouth. 

“You’re sheltering a Revenant,” Yeosang accuses. San visibly flinches. 

Hongjoong straightens up. “Oh? That’s quite an accusation.” 

“I saw,” the medic tells him. 

“Saw what exactly?” Hongjoong questions. “Have you seen one wandering around? There is one here, I admit that, but sheltering is hardly the word for it.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Yeosang demands. “You told me I would be _safe_ here—” 

“And you are!” Hongjoong insists. “That Revenant is locked up. It can’t do anything to you.” 

“Well why is it even here?!” It goes quiet again with the exception of San’s sniffling. 

Wooyoung finally says something at that point. “Because we can’t kill it.” The blond looks pointedly at San who looks on the verge of collapsing. “Believe me, I tried when I first got here. San nearly clawed my eyes out.” 

Yeosang heaves a few breaths, looking from Wooyoung to San. The dark haired boy is crying now, shoulders shaking, but he doesn’t have time to think about that. He’s busy processing what Wooyoung just said. Hongjoong had set himself up here nearly two years ago. San and Jongho had apparently not come long after, and then after that was Wooyoung. So when did the Revenant come along? And why was San protecting him? 

“Who is he?” he demands. 

Wooyoung frowns, looking at San who probably couldn’t answer between his sobs anyways. He doesn’t have to, though, because a new voice answers for him. “My brother.” 

Yeosang looks over to the entrance of the kitchen where Jongho is standing with his arms crossed. He has a carefully neutral expression on his face. “What?” he asks. 

“You heard me,” Jongho responds stiffly. “I said that Revenant is my brother.” Yeosang doesn’t know what to say to that. 

  
  
  
  
  


Hongjoong comes to his room later that evening with a cup of tea in his hands which he hands over to Yeosang. “I apologize,” he starts. The medic scoots over on the bed, and Hongjoong takes the invitation to sit. “It was not my intention to keep that from you, but we had our own worries revealing it right away.” 

“What worries?” Yeosang asks, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. 

“San and Jongho came to me with that Revenant,” Hongjoong explains. “I was...reluctant because of it, but we made a deal.” 

“You and Jongho?” 

He shakes his head. “Me and the Revenant,” Hongjoong clarifies. “I agreed that San and Jongho could stay so long as he remained locked up. He’s been in that cell the whole time. Then when Wooyoung came, I felt obligated to tell him for his own safety. Two days later, Wooyoung had nearly killed San, and San almost blinded him. He stole the key from my room and tried to kill him.” 

Yeosang stares down at his tea thoughtfully. “Why did you let him live? When he first came?” 

Hongjoong sighs. “It was a curious incident. I’d never met someone like them before. Two humans traveling with a Revenant, and it hardly seemed as if they were being held hostage. And...San was keen on staying. He was willing to do anything. Nevertheless I wouldn’t trust a Revenant as far as I could throw him, so if they wanted to stay that was my condition.” He runs his hands through his hair. “Now it’s just...if I did, or if I let anyone else do it I’m afraid of what would happen to San. I don’t think he’d come out of it or ever forgive me.” 

“You’re not worried about Jongho?” 

The leader shakes his head. “He’s....I don’t really understand him, to be honest. It’s his brother, but sometimes Jongho feels things would be better off if he were dead. At the same time, I get the feeling he’d be devastated. I don’t know.” 

“San’s trying to sustain him,” Yeosang notes. “That’s what all the blood draws are for.” 

Hongjoong nods his head because he can’t disagree. “Yeah.” 

“He can’t sustain it,” Yeosang tells him even though he has a feeling the older man knows. “I can’t draw enough blood from him often enough to sustain a Revenant. With his low blood pressure he’s at risk of passing out, and I worry about his total blood volume.” 

“I know.” 

“At this rate this Revenant will be at risk of frenzying.” 

Hongjoong looks away from him. “I know.” 

His eyebrows knit together in concern. What exactly is the plan then? 

  
  
  
  
  


Yeosang finds San later that night. He can’t sleep after the day’s events, and he needs to know more. He figures for now that San is the best one to approach between him and Jongho, so he tries him first. Surprisingly, he finds the other in his room for once, curled up in his sheets and still sniffling quietly. 

“Hey,” he calls out softly to announce his presence. San sits up abruptly to look at him, eyes rimmed with red and still wet from his crying. Yeosang steps tentatively into his room. “Can we talk?” San rubs at his eyes and sniffles some more, but he nods his head. 

Yeosang walks to the center of the room, gingerly lowering himself to the floor to face San who crawls over to the edge of his bed. He hugs his knees to his chest and thinks of what he should say to him. Eventually, he clears his throat to speak. “First, I just want to tell you that I won’t—I have no intention of doing anything. I was just thrown off. I wasn’t expecting that there was a Revenant living right under me.” 

“I understand,” San agrees in a watery voice. “Hongjoong told me to keep it a secret, but I wouldn’t have told you anyways.” 

“Why not? Don’t I deserve to know?” 

San stares at his lap with a frown on his face. “It’s not that,” he weakly argues. “I know that everyone—everyone should know for their safety, I just...no one is on my side. No one will help me. Every day I can tell that he’s getting closer and closer to a frenzy, and I’m trying to stave it off as best as I can, but I can’t because my body is too _weak_.” A little sob escapes him while Yeosang winces from the accusations. “They’re just waiting. Waiting until he frenzies and even I have to let him go. Then they’ll kill him.” He looks so defeated, and Yeosang can’t help but feel for him. 

“I...there’s something that I don’t understand though,” Yeosang begins slowly. San doesn’t look at him, merely making a small noise to indicate that he’s listening. “Hongjoong said that you came here together, but that was years ago now right? How could you have possibly been staving off a frenzy for that long?” It doesn’t make sense to him, even with some blood, Yeosang would predict that it would only take a few months for a Revenant to succumb to a frenzy without their bloodlust being fully satisfied. 

“The blood tree,” San answers, turning his head to look out the window. There’s a clear view of the tree from here. “That’s why I came here, why I was desperate to stay. Hongjoong nearly attacked on sight, but we outnumbered him. I just wanted access to the blood beads.” 

Yeosang sucks in a breath. “So you...supplemented your blood with blood beads?” 

“Yeah. It was working, but then a few months ago the beads ran out, and the blood tree dried up.” His expression is miserable as he stares at the blood tree. “I asked Jongho to help, but he won’t do it. Then Wooyoung told me about that blood spring to the north, but no one wants to go near it because of that group of Revenants. I know that I don’t have much time left, and maybe I should give it up, but I’m not ready yet.” He hugs his knees to his chest tightly and, although he isn’t facing Yeosang, the medic can hear in his voice that he’s on the verge of tears again. “Yunho says I should let him go.” 

“Is that his name?” Yeosang asks. 

“Hm?” San wipes the tears gathering in his eyes with his hands and sniffles. “Yeah. Yunho.” 

“He’s Jongho’s brother?” 

“Yes,” San keeps wiping at his eyes. “They are, but right now neither of them really see it that way, so it’s difficult.” 

Yeosang frowns at the statement. What the hell is that supposed to mean? But he presses San a little more. “But you’re the one primarily taking care of him right now, right? He’s clearly special to you.” 

The tears finally seem to stop, and San turns his head to look at Yeosang. “We knew each other,” he explains. “When he was still human. Before the Great Collapse. We were...dating. We had plans. Jongho liked me and everything.” He looks down at his hands, playing with his fingers. Yeosang observes him quietly, letting him talk at his own pace. “And then the world went to shit. Those...horns—spires came out of the earth, and then those....creatures followed.” His hands clench up, brows knitted together like he’s recalling a painful memory. Yeosang feels his own heart rate pick up, anxious about what San will say next. 

“We survived the initial wave,” San tells him. “The three of us. The provisional government was set up almost immediately and we sought refuge from them. Then the Revenants came and Jongho and Yunho were asked to donate their blood. They weren’t Donors yet, it wasn’t systematic, but…” he trails off. Yeah, Yeosang knows. The early days of the end had felt awful, but in retrospect it wasn’t nearly as bad as the nightmare they’re all currently living. “Yunho got sick, but nobody would look at him. The provisional government didn’t care, just spared some cough syrup and hoped it would go away. All the medical professionals weren’t allowed to see us. We weren’t the priority, humans, you know? All the effort was in maintaining the Revenants, working on Project QUEEN.” 

San begins to tremble, and Yeosang bites into his tongue so hard he swears he can taste blood. He tries to compose himself, but Yeosang can tell that he’s struggling. “He didn’t get better,” he finally whispers brokenly. “The Corpse Recovery Act had already gone through too, so I wasn’t allowed to bury him or anything. The provisional government took him from me, and I thought that was that.” 

Unable to bear it any longer, Yeosang closes his eyes and places his head in his hands. He can hardly listen to San anymore. He can’t even begin to fathom how the other is able to relive this all over again. “But they needed more Revenants,” he concludes, “to fight against the Queen after she frenzied.” 

San nods his head. “They told us when he woke up. In the beginning families were often asked to act as the blood donor for a Revenant. I volunteered, of course, but they refused me because of my blood pressure, so Jongho volunteered instead. But then—” he shrugs his shoulders, looking like he couldn’t understand what happened. “Everything got worse. Jongho was suddenly forced to become a Donor. They took him away from me too. I was left to mostly fend for myself in the outer reaches of the provisional government. I was a human, but I wasn’t really useful to them, so they left me in the slums.”

Yeosang drags himself closer to San, placing a comforting hand on his knee. “I’m—I’m so sorry, San.” He can’t imagine it, the amount of times he’s been ripped from his family. Even now it feels like it’s happening to him. “But the war ended with the Queen. She’s gone, and the three of you are still alive.” 

“Yeah,” San agrees though it comes out listless. “The provisional government collapsed, and Jongho and Yunho found me, but he didn’t remember me. He didn’t remember Jongho either. We might as well have been strangers. Still I thought I could make it work, but Jongho eventually stopped giving his blood, and he became just...so hostile to Yunho, and, well, here we are.” 

Yeosang squeezes his knee again, and a sigh escapes his lips. “I hate to ask,” he starts, shooting San a brief look, “does he know—did he ever tell you how many times he...dispersed?” 

San shakes his head vehemently. “I’m not—I don’t really know what that is, so I never asked.” 

“It’s okay. Not many people do,” Yeosang pulls his hand away and pushes himself to his feet. 

“I know that Revenants are functionally immortal. The parasite keeps them alive.” 

The medic crosses his arms over his chest. “Yes. For all intents and purposes a Revenant is just a human host for the BOR parasite. It takes up residency primarily in the cardiovascular system of its host, and because of that, it can more or less take control of the cells, bringing life back to what was once dead. That’s why candidates were often ones who were dying or already dead. But because it resides in the heart of most organisms, the revived maintain many of their mental faculties.” 

Tentatively, he takes a seat on the cot beside San, watching him to see if he disapproves, but San doesn’t say or do anything beyond listening intently. So Yeosang continues, “Dispersal happens when the host takes a fatal wound, but the parasite remains intact. In order to save itself, the parasite forces the cells of the host to disperse, only to reassemble at a later time when it’s safe and the parasite can heal the body. However, there was a major problem the military encountered with that.” 

“What?” San asks curiously. His fingers dig into the edge of his cot anxiously, and he leans forward to get a better look at Yeosang. 

“Sometimes not everything would reassemble correctly, particularly in an organ as complex as the brain. Connections would be lost or inappropriately wired. Mainly this affected memory, though there were some cases of Revenants who lost other abilities like talking. Sometimes our biggest hurdle was reminding Revenants exactly who and what they were fighting for. The information would get lost with dispersal.” 

“So what? Yunho forgot because—because he _died_?” San sounds distressed; his breathing starts to become erratic, so Yeosang grounds him with a tight grip on his arm. 

“I don’t know,” he says. “It’s just a possibility.” 

“I don’t know what to do,” San says. He reaches around to grab onto Yeosang’s arm with his other hand, and his grip is deceptively strong for his frame. “I don’t—now that you know, I need you to draw more blood.” 

“That isn’t a good idea, San.” 

“But I _need_ it. You know I do, please—”

“We can find another solution,” Yeosang interrupts him. “That isn’t the one. You’ll die of blood loss to sustain him.” 

“There isn’t another solution though!” San argues, his voice tinged with a little hysteria. 

“There’s five humans here,” Yeosang points out. “We can figure something out.” 

San’s grip on Yeosang’s arm goes slack, and the defeated expression reappears. He searches the medic’s face for something, anything, before he pulls away with a sigh. “They won’t help,” he says instead. “And neither will you.” 

“San—” 

“Would you give him your blood?” he cuts in. Yeosang hesitates because he doesn’t necessarily _want_ to. He knows the feeling, has been bitten plenty of times both consensually and forcefully, but he wouldn’t take it off the table. In fact, he may not have any other choice if the others are as uncooperative as San claims. But San only sees his hesitation and huffs, turning away from him. “I knew it,” he mutters, falling face first into his sheets. He doesn’t move for the rest of the night. 

  
  
  
  
  


It’s been a long time. 

Yeosang squeezes the mini flashlight in his hand. In his pocket he has one of the little needles he uses for San’s blood draws and a small collection tube. He tries not to tremble too much as he enters jailhouse for the second time. If Yeosang is being honest, he doesn’t hate Revenants. He likes them about as much as he likes other humans. Dislike for them had stemmed partially from the events leading up to the collapse of the provisional government and from survival because most humans didn’t take too kindly to Revenant sympathizers. Neither of which are really Revenants fault. So he doesn’t really hate them. If anything he feels sorry for them. Sorry for what humans have done to them. 

Nevertheless he’s cautious. They’re still physically stronger than a human and very capable of killing him if they want, but that’s the thing. He doesn’t think most Revenants are killers. They’re survivors. They’re desperate and trying to survive, their food just happens to be humans. 

He makes his way down the stairs. All this to say that he’d been lied to, yes, but he isn’t mad about the Revenant. He’s mad no one _told_ him about the Revenant, and, as a medic, Yeosang supposes he has a duty to everyone on this base. Even the Revenant. 

“What are you doing down here?” Yeosang shrieks, nearly jumping out of his skin as he whirls around to see Jongho taking the last step into the basement. He looks suspicious. 

“Jesus—you scared the shit out of me,” Yeosang snaps. Jongho shrugs, unapologetic, and repeats his question. “Well,” Yeosang starts with an exasperated sigh, “it’s come to my attention that there are actually _five_ other people here, and I figured Yunho could use a check up.” 

Jongho’s expression remains unreadable though his gaze temporarily slides to the only occupied cell. Yeosang wonders if the Revenant can hear everything or not. He hasn’t said a word if he can. “Why?” Jonho asks. “He’s a Revenant. He doesn’t need one.” 

“Even Revenants have medical needs,” Yeosang states. “And this one sounds like he might be close to a frenzy. I want to take a look at him.” 

“You don’t need to—” 

“It’s my right,” Yeosang cuts in. “I’m a field medic, and I want to.” 

“You _were_ a field medic,” the younger corrects snidely. “There’s no war going on anymore.” 

“There doesn’t have to be,” Yeosang argues through gritted teeth. “People aren’t only injured during war time. And that’s why I’m here anyways, so if I say I want to see a patient I will.” 

“What would he even need?” Jongho snorts. 

Yeosang frowns at him. San’s insistence that no one, _no one_ , will help him ring through his ears. This is his brother, and he’s antagonizing Yeosang for no real reason when he’s just trying to help. What in the hell happened? “Don’t pretend you don’t know,” he answers quietly. “San told me everything. The blood tree dried up a few months ago, and last I checked San was the only one asking for his blood to be drawn.” 

Jongho’s eyes narrow. “So? He’s still getting fed.” 

“Not enough. You _know_ it’s not enough.” 

Jongho makes a face. “It’s never enough,” he comments to himself. 

“What happened?” Yeosang demands, unable to take it anymore. “I don’t get it. San so clearly loves him. He’s desperate to keep the bloodlust at bay. He’s risking his own life doing it, but he’s your brother and you actively hate him. You won’t even help!” 

“My brother died years ago!” Jongho snaps at him. “Just because that thing has his face doesn’t mean that’s my brother anymore. And I’m not obligated to tell you anything.” 

The medic wants to fist his own hair. “The parasite doesn’t turn them into deranged monsters!” he argues. 

“Could have fooled me.” 

Yeosang glares at him, opening his mouth to snap at the younger man again, but he abruptly decides against it. He doesn’t know what Jongho’s problem is, and he isn’t going to help anything by getting into an argument about it. So he closes his mouth and turns to continue on his way. Jongho wouldn’t listen to him anyways. He marches up to the cell door and reaches out to tug on the handle. It doesn’t budge. Blinking, he instead reaches up to slide open the little flap at eye level, but that too doesn’t move. 

Jongho laughs at him. Yeosang scowls. Then he hears a voice from the other side of the door. “The door is locked at all times and the window rusted over a while ago.” Well, that’s annoying. 

“I’d like to be able to at least take a look at you,” Yeosang grumbles. He can’t exactly do an examination with a door in the way. 

Jongho saunters up to the cell door, leaning forward and cupping his hands around his mouth. “Hey, on a scale of 1 to 10 how much do you feel like eating all of us right now?” 

Yeosang elbows him harshly, but the Revenant actually answers. “I—I don’t want to eat _anyone_ ,” his voice is strained like he’s in much pain. 

“Who has the key?” Yeosang asks. Jongho pins him with a look which clearly expresses just how stupid he thinks the medic is. 

  
  
  
  


“No,” Hongjoong denies him. “Absolutely not.” 

“I told you,” Jongho sings, watching with amusement as Yeosang chases after the leader. 

“You don’t understand,” Yeosang insists, jumping in front of Hongjoong to keep him from leaving the room. “This is important. I need to see how far along he is. He’s still clearly coherent. That’s not typical in a Revenant about to frenzy.” 

“Listen, I don’t want to sound too callous, but I’m not really interested in knowing exactly _how_ close to a psychotic break that Revenant is.” 

“You don’t think it’s important to know?” Yeosang argues. “You don’t think it’s important for the safety of everyone else here.” Hongjoong sighs, rubbing his forehead with a hand. “Lock me in there,” Yeosang suggests. 

Hongjoong pauses, and the smug grin on Jongho’s face fades. “What?” the youngest asks first because Hongjoong seems too stunned to speak. “Are you—you’re actually crazy aren’t you? You want to be locked in the same tiny space as a Revenant? One who might be just seconds away from a frenzy?”

“Unlike you, I’m not scared of him,” Yeosang barks back at him. 

“You should be.” 

“I have more than enough reason _not_ to be.” He glares at Jongho for a hard moment before he turns his attention to Hongjoong. “If you’re scared of him running off, then just let me go in there. If I die, then oh well, I guess you all win.” 

Hongjoong finally gathers himself enough to respond. “You’re awfully candid about potentially dying.” 

“I’m not scared,” he repeats. 

“ _You_ damn near attacked me the other day because we didn’t tell you about the Revenant.” 

“Yunho,” Yeosang says. 

Hongjoong sputters. “What?” 

“His name is Yunho, and I’m not worried anymore, so let me do my job. For everyone’s sake.” Hongjoong stares at him in disbelief, but Yeosang refuses to budge. He’s putting his foot down on this issue. He _will_ see the Revenant. The leader glances over to Jongho as if to gauge his opinion, but the younger man just shrugs his shoulders. If Yeosang wants to be insane let him, he seems to say.

  
  
  
  


The lighting is awful in the cell, Yeosang notes as the door quite frantically shuts behind him. He can see, but it feels damp. Depressing. His mood immediately plummets a little. In the corner of the room he sees a figure huddled down, and his heart rate picks up momentarily when the figure slowly stands to his feet. Yunho doesn’t look as awful as Yeosang feared. He’s dirty and greasy, in desperate need of a bath, and his skin is a little pallid, but Yeosang has seen humans in worse shape. He predicts much of it is due to San. 

“Yunho?” he asks, standing still in his spot by the door. The figure takes a tentative step towards him, and Yeosang winces when he can see the Revenant in slightly better light. He’s noticeably pale, but more frighteningly, dark veins bulge against his skin, especially around his neck. Signs of an approaching frenzy. Yeosang notes optimistically, however, that his eyes are a warm brown color, not the red of a hungry Revenant. 

He cocks his head at Yeosang, eyeing the medic warily. “You’re new,” he notes in a raspy voice. “I haven’t…felt you before.”

“Indeed. I’m Yeosang,” he introduces. “I’m a medic.” 

“He knew?” Jongho’s questions carries through the door. 

“Revenants can often tell people and other Revenants apart by their energy,” Yeosang explains as he pulls out his supplies. 

“What the fuck does that mean?” 

Yeosang looks up at Yunho, catching his gaze before he clearly and dramatically rolls his eyes. The Revenant hides a laugh behind his hand. “Well, for example, _you're_ probably the bitchy one.” 

“He’s the angry one,” Yunho confirms. “I don’t know his name.” 

“You _should_ know it,” Jongho snarls through the door. 

Yunho ignores him and continues. “There’s the nice one—San. He...feeds me.” Yeosang nods his head in confirmation because it’s true. “There’s the muderous one. He tried to kill me once.” Wooyoung. “And the indecisive one.” He looks at the door. “He doesn’t know what to do with me.” If Hongjoong hears him he gives no indication. “And you’re new. I don’t know what you are yet though.” 

“I’m the one that’s going to take care of you,” Yeosang says simply as he attaches his needle to the tube. “I want to take a small blood test. I’d like to know how your parasite is doing.” Wordlessly, Yunho holds out one of his arms. Finding a vein is easy on him. In his state they stand out in stark contrast to his pale skin, black and almost painful looking. 

Yeosang takes a small sample. A quick look unfortunately doesn’t tell him much. It’s not yet dark enough that he worries about Yunho’s condition, but it also doesn’t look good either. “Can you tell me about yourself?” he requests. 

Yunho shifts his weight, looking away uncomfortably. “What about myself?” 

“Anything,” the medic shrugs. He doesn’t really care, just wants to test how mentally sound he is. “I’ve heard you may have incurred some memory loss. Just tell me what you remember.” 

“I…” Yunho starts slowly, fingers digging into his ratty shirt. “I remember that my name is Yunho. I was part of a unit tasked with fighting the Queen. We were to advance from the northeast of her predicted location.” 

Yeosang frowns because he isn’t expecting this type of response. It’s good, he initially thinks. Yunho can answer the question with clarity and confidence, but it’s also bad. His memory is so entangled he seems to still believe they are at least engaging with the Queen. “The Queen was killed years ago. Your mission was successful,” he tells the Revenant, quirking an eyebrow at him. “Did you know that?” 

Yunho hesitates, glancing at his cell door. “Yes,” he finally answers. “I have been told.” 

“You don’t believe it?” Yeosang questions. 

“It’s not that I don’t believe it,” Yunho shakes his head, “I’m just...confused.” 

“About what?” 

The Revenant stares at him for a long moment with a frown on his face. “If it’s true that the Queen is dead, then why? Why is everything worse? Where is the provisional government?” 

“Ah,” Yeosang nods his head in understanding, though a tinge of worry begins to fester in the back of his mind. Yunho is coherent, yes, but he’s insanely confused. His memories are completely disordered. “We can work on that,” he tells the Revenant. “Your memories, I mean. Would you know how many times you dispersed? During the war.” 

Yunho shakes his head in answer. “No. At least once. I remember waking up and a doctor told me that I should be ready to redeploy.” 

Yeosang conceals his wince. “How much pain are you in?” he asks instead. 

“It’s not the worst I’ve ever experienced,” Yunho shrugs. “But it’s uncomfortable.” 

Yeosang fishes out his mini flashlight, shining it into Yunho’s eyes to check his dilation. For a brief moment his right eye turns red when he adjusts to the light. Yeosang grimly takes note. “Is it bad?” he asks when the medic pulls away. 

Yeosang pockets his flashlight, remaining silent for a moment. He can practically feel Jongho and Hongjoong holding their breaths in anticipation. “We’ll get the supplies needed,” he assures Yunho. “But first you’ll definitely need a bath.” 

  
  
  
  
  


“He’s showing early signs of bloodlust, but he’s still extremely coherent. I do not think he’s at the point of a frenzy yet,” Yeosang concludes, watching Hongjoong carefully for his reaction. The others are gathered there as well. Wooyoung snorts at his assessment as if it’s the most obvious diagnosis. Jongho remains stony and silent. San covers his mouth with a hand; he looks like he’s going to be sick. 

“So what?” Hongjoong eventually asks. 

Yeosang tenses in his seat at the question, eyes searching out San, and they stare at each other for a moment. He has this look in his eye, the medic notes, like he knows exactly what’s coming next. “We should set up a regiment,” Yeosang suggests. “We have five human here, and San cannot keep up with his feeding needs. One Donor would be enough, but—” 

“I’m _not_ feeding that thing,” Wooyoung cuts him off curtly before whirling around to storm off. Yeosang presses his lips into a thin line, not at all surprised by his response, but certainly annoyed. Jongho declines right after. They don’t even allow Yeosang time to argue his case. He’s not asking for one person to take up the duty; they could rotate and lessen the time and blood taken from each person. He, too, leaves, sending San a look that Yeosang can’t see from where he is. 

“It’s the safest option for everyone,” Yeosang says, turning his attention back to Hongjoong. “A frenzying Revenant won’t help _anyone_ here. If we keep the bloodlust at bay we’ll all be safer for it.” 

“That’s what San has been doing,” Hongjoong points out. 

“He’s delaying it. That’s not the same thing as sating it,” Yeosang shakes his head in frustration. Why is everyone being so goddamn difficult? “At this rate I’d guess San would be able to keep it off for only a few more months before the bloodlust really kicks in and he’ll start to frenzy.” 

Hongjoong stares at the ground evidently debating with himself. Yeosang waits with bated breath, trying his best not to allow his anxiety to show. Finally he lifts his gaze up, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, but you’re asking for too much.” 

“Too much?” Yeosang repeats in disbelief. “Are you kidding? Between the three of us it wouldn’t have to be that often!” 

“I said no, Yeosang.” His voice is gentle, but his demeanor is not. He glances to San who refuses to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry. If you guys can’t sort it out, then we’ll just have to explore,” he swallows thickly, guiltily, “other options for dealing with him.” 

A long silence passes between them. San doesn’t say anything. Yeosang can’t. He can’t believe this. _No one is on my side. No one will help me_ . Yeosang suddenly understands the younger man’s despair. Finally, the medic straightens up, squaring his shoulders stubbornly. “Fine,” he agrees through gritted teeth. They _will_ sort it out. “I want to at least be able to bathe him then. He’s filthy.” 

“He’s not leaving that cell,” Hongjoong denies. 

“Then I’ll fucking bathe him _in_ the cell. Give me the key.” 

  
  
  
  
  


Yeosang grunts as he hauls another bucket full of water down the stairs to the prison cells. It’s the last one, thankfully, because he’s already exhausted. He’d passed a bag of his blood off to Yunho earlier, keen to make sure his thirst is sated before he goes in, and has been lugging buckets of water down since. San is right, he thinks, no one is willing to so much as lift a finger to help whenever it involves Yunho. He’s made all the more aware of this irritating fact by the way Jongho has been standing outside Yunho’s door, watching him with smug amusement. 

Yeosang hates him. 

“You’re really not giving up, huh?” he asks as Yeosang drops the last bucket in front of the door. 

“You really have, huh?” the elder snaps back. Opening the door, he nudges the bucket inside because his arms feel too tired and jelly-like to lift them up. Jongho closes and locks the door on him without a word. 

Once he’s inside, Yeosang collapses to his knees, taking a moment to catch his breath. Yunho eyes all his buckets and rags and cups curiously. He looks better, the medic notes. Some color has returned to his face, and the black, protruding veins he noted earlier have disappeared. Now he just looks filthy. “You need to be washed,” Yeosang explains. “Living like this isn’t going to help you any.” 

Yunho hums like he’s agreeing, but he doesn’t move from his spot, continuing to eye all the items. It’s an awkward affair, Yeosang admits. It feels much like he’s attempting to clean a child, or a pet. He has to coax Yunho into undressing though they work together to wash off the dirt and grime on his skin. More than anything, Yeosang is grateful that he doesn’t complain about the temperature of the water because it’s cold and miserable, but the Revenant seems unaffected by it. 

As he scrubs one of his arms, his eyes catch the glint of metal. Without pausing, he looks down at Yunho’s hand. He’s got a ring on his finger, not anything fancy. Just a little silver band. Yeosang wonders if he should offer to clean it. 

The ring escapes his thoughts as he pours the cold water over Yunho’s head, washing his hair with a well used bar of soap from his medical ward. Yunho stands perfectly still, bent over so that Yeosang can wash his hair. When they’re done, he hands Yunho a towel to dry himself and a pair of clean clothes he managed to find. The shirt is a decent fit, but the pants are too short, ending a few inches above his ankles, but it’ll have to do. 

“I want to move him to a different cell,” Yeosang says to Jongho when he pokes his head out. 

The younger sputters. “Why?” 

“It’s wet in here,” he says with a small shrug. “You have the keys, right? Just pick a different one.” 

They move him to the one right across the narrow hallway. Jongho takes a step back in surprise, eyes wide when Yunho emerges. The brothers’ share a quick glance with each other which Yeosang observes curiously. The younger brother shrinks into himself, quickly turning his gaze away. Yunho just frowns, no recognition in his expression, before he ducks into the new cell. 

They close and lock the door, and when Yeosang turns to leave he pauses at the expression on Jongho’s face. He’s pale with a faraway look in his eyes as if he’s just seen a ghost. Maybe he has. “Let’s go,” he says to snap Jongho out of it, picking up his various buckets and rags to take with him. 

Yeosang makes his way back across the courtyard to the medical wing to drop off the buckets. He wants to check up on San afterwards. He’d ordered the younger man to rest and eat plenty for the next few days. He needs him to recover and get back a little bit of his strength before he feels comfortable taking another blood draw. San protested, pleaded for Yeosang to just do it because he was sure Yunho was hungry, but the medic refused. He promised that he would take care of it, and he had. 

“Jongho!” he looks over, watching as Wooyoung and Hongjoong run towards them. He thinks nothing of it though, continuing on his way as the youngest pauses to see what they want. “Jongho,” Wooyoung calls again, panting as he catches up to them, “we have a problem.” That catches Yeosang’s attention, and he, too, stops to listen. “It’s San,” the blond tells him in between pants, “he’s disappeared.” 

The buckets slip from Yeosang’s slack grip. “ _What_?” Jongho asks. He looks bewildered, like he can’t comprehend exactly what they’ve told him. San is gone? Where?

“We thought maybe he had slipped away to come see you in the prison ward, but…” Hongjoong trails off as he looks between him and Yeosang. Evidently San is not with them. 

“Where did he go?” Jongho demands. 

Wooyoung shakes his head. “We don’t know. I’ve been looking everywhere for him, but I can’t find him. He’s not here.” 

“He’s not on the base?” Jongho is beginning to sound more and more panicked. Yeosang feels his heart rate pick up as well. He doesn’t like the idea of San running around somewhere by himself. He’s in no shape to be doing that. 

“Does he leave for anything?” the medic jumps in to ask, walking up to the other three. “Does he ever go out? Gather food, water, supplies?” 

“No,” Jongho answers with a shake of his head. “We don’t—I don’t let him. He’s not in any condition to be doing something like that. Why would he leave?” 

They all seem at a loss for words, unable to answer the question. Yeosang cups his chin as he thinks. It doesn’t make sense to him. San wouldn’t just up and leave, not when Yunho is still here. Everything he does seems to be specifically for the Revenant, so why—he gasps when a thought crosses his mind, heart sinking into his stomach. “What?” Jongho asks, quickly pouncing on his reaction. 

“I...think I know where he went,” Yeosang says with dread. The more he thinks about it the more it makes sense. San appears to have one motivation and one motivation only in life: Yunho. Jongho fists his hands into the collar of his shit, yanking the medic closer to him. 

“Where?” he demands. 

“Jongho,” Hongjoong scolds him, reaching out to pry the younger’s hands from Yeosang’s shirt. 

The medic doesn’t even care. He barely notices. “The blood spring,” he says in a whisper, and everyone freezes at the answer. When he looks at Jongho he can see the gears turning in the younger’s head as the realization hits them. It makes sense. 

“That’s suicide,” Wooyoung argues. “There’s no way—” 

“Where else would he go?” Yeosang retorts. He looks at the three of them with a critical expression. “‘No one will help me,’” he quotes. “San has been saying that to me since I found out about Yunho. There’s five fucking humans on this base and we have a Revenant half starved to death living beneath us. That doesn’t make any sense!” 

“I’d kill myself before I feed a goddamn Revenant again!” Wooyoung snarls at him. 

“One bag of blood every few days,” Yeosang hisses back. “Clinically drawn! That’s not asking for a lot! One healthy adult would be enough but there’s five of us and only the sickliest one is trying to do anything about it.” 

“As if that’s _our_ fault.” 

“It is your fault!” Yeosang yells, unable to take this anymore. It’s frustrating and irritating. “Because you don’t _do_ anything. If you cared you’d help him. Even if you hated Yunho enough you’d at least kill him to spare San, but you don’t do _anything_. You all just fucking watch as he struggles to help keep someone he loves alive!” He pants, glaring at each of them. They’re all quiet, even Wooyoung. “He used the blood beads from the tree to supplement himself before. Maybe it was depressing, but it worked. Now it’s gone, Yunho was a few months away from a frenzy, and I’m the only other one who’s given him blood. He didn’t think he had a choice. It’s this or he loses him. He went to the blood spring.” 

A long beat of silence passes between the four of them. Yeosang waits with bated breath for someone to say something, anything. He looks at Jongho who is trembling although his expression is blank. Finally Hongjoong speaks, “Wooyoung.” The blond stiffens up at his name. “You’re coming with me. We’ll check the blood spring and bring him back.” His fingers clench into a tight fist, but he doesn’t protest. 

“I’m coming too,” Jongho immediately volunteers. 

“No,” Hongjoong responds quickly and curtly. “You stay here.” 

“But—” 

“I’m not budging on this, Jongho. Wooyoung and I will bring him back, so just wait for us, okay?” He pats the younger on the shoulder before gesturing to Wooyoung to go. Yeosang watches them with his jaw clenched. This could have all been avoided if they’d just _listened_ to him. 

  
  
  
  


San isn’t entirely sure where he’s going. Just generally to the north. There’s a small town up there, long abandoned. The streets and buildings lie empty. He doesn’t see nor hear a soul, not even a Revenant. He wanders up and down the blocks of the town, eyes constantly roaming around, peering behind him occasionally, always on the lookout. He doesn’t see anybody though. 

He walks down a street he hasn’t been down before, walking only a few blocks when he sees it. San pauses at the sight of the blood spring, a relieved little sigh escaping him. They’re small, white plants, much smaller than blood trees, so they don’t produce as many beads, but he can see them. Countless beads hanging from its vines, some of them have fallen to the ground, framing the little plant. 

His breathing picks up as he quickly scouts the area, but it seems as quiet and dead as everywhere else. Unable to squash his desperation, he runs as quietly as he can the rest of the way to the blood spring, immediately dropping to his knees as he scrambles to pick up the ones on the ground. He yanks open the small bag he brought with him, shoving the beads inside. He hadn’t really thought about how many he’d planned to take, just knew he needed to get as many as he could for now, figuring he could always come back for more later. 

As he stuffs his bag, he still occasionally looks around, worried that he might come across a Revenant. He hurriedly gathers more, filling his bag until he can hardly zip it up when he catches red in the corner of his vision. He snaps his head up before the Revenant seems to notice him. 

“Hey!” A gruff voice calls out. San momentarily freezes when he catches the eye of the redhead. He isn’t sure who or what he is, but then the redhead is running at him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing!” 

San figures this is his cue to leave. He grabs his bag and scrambles backwards, turning to make his escape. He gasps when he immediately runs into another body, stumbling back a couple of steps. Looking up, he freezes at the blond man looking down at him. This hadn’t been a part of his plan. His eyes briefly turn red as he eyes the bag in San’s grip. The human clutches it to his stomach. He’s a Revenant. They probably both are. 

The blond Revenant reaches out, snatching San by his wrist when he tries to back away, eyeing his bag. “What,” he begins in a smooth voice that contrasts starkly with the redhead’s gruff one, “would a human want with a bag of blood beads?” 

The redhead catches up to them then, coming to a halt next to the blond and tearing the bag from San’s grip. He cries out in alarm, reaching with his free hand to take it back but the blond grabs that one too. 

“Please,” San begs, “I need those.” He pulls at the Revenant’s grip, but it’s strong, and his weak struggles barely seem to phase the blond. 

“So do we,” the redhead snaps. He zips open the bag, staring down at the numerous blood beads in it. “God, you would have taken a couple months' supply worth.” 

“San?” The human perks up at his name, watching as Hongjoong and Wooyoung round the corner of the block. Everyone freezes for a moment. The Revenants share a look with each other, evidently not expecting _more_ humans to show up. San tenses in a mixture of fear for Wooyoung and Hongjoong and fear that they already found him. The two humans freeze because there are two Revenants before them, one of which is holding onto San. 

Wordlessly, the blond passes the human off to his redhead companion, turning to face the newcomers. Wooyoung crouches down, glaring at him, his fingers gripped tight around the handle of the knife he always brings with him. Hongjoong holds him back with a grip on his arm. “Don’t,” he warns, eyeing the blond Revenant warily. He doesn’t like the way he’s holding himself. Confident, but still cautious. He’s seen plenty of fights. 

There’s a short stare off between the three of them before a scuffle breaks out behind the Revenant, and he turns just as San sinks his teeth into the arm of the redhead. The tall Revenant shouts in pain, and San seizes the opportunity to rip the bag from the Revenant’s grip and make a run for it. He only makes it about two steps before the blond catches him around the waist. 

“Let me go,” he demands, kicking and struggling fruitlessly. 

“Mingi,” he calls for his companion. The redhead looks up from inspecting his arm, a disgusted expression on his face. The blond nods towards Hongjoong and Wooyoung. “We’re taking them.” Obediently, he takes a step towards them, and San realizes this isn’t something he’s going to get out of. He fucked up. 

Cocking his hand back, he tosses the bag with as much strength as he can muster. A few of the blood beads fly out, but it lands only feet away from Hongjoong. “Hongjoong,” he calls desperately, still struggling in the blond’s hold because he’ll be damned if he makes it easy. “Hongjoong, please. You know what to do.” 

The older man looks at him before his gaze drops down to the bag. It’s not too far, and San begs him to take it. “There’s just two,” Wooyoung eggs him on, eyeing the redhead as he approaches. “We can take them on.” 

Hongjoong lifts his gaze back up to San and the Revenant that’s holding him. The blond’s eyes are hard, and his jaw is clenched. He knows right away that he isn’t someone he wants to mess with. He doesn’t want to leave San, can’t fathom what might happen to him, but he realizes he needs to do what’s best for everyone no matter the consequences. Sucking in a deep breath, he darts forward to grab the bag from the ground, throwing San one last look over his shoulder as he pulls Wooyoung along with him. He’s ashamed of the relieved look he sees on the younger’s face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is too much plot and not enough kissing. My apologies :(

Yeosang stares out one of the windows in the medical ward. It gives him a perfect view of the blood tree. The very dead, unhelpful blood tree, and he hangs his head with an exasperated sigh. Why? He thinks while massaging his temples. Why did it have to get this far? Jongho’s pacing around behind him, only adding to his irritation. 

“Can you stop?” he finally snaps. 

Jongho pauses, looking at him in surprise. “Stop? Are you kidding me? I’m fucking anxious right now. Can’t you be a little more sympathetic?” 

He can be, but not towards Jongho. “You’re not helping yourself any. You’ll just have to wait for Hongjoong and Wooyoung to come back.” 

The pacing stops for a brief moment of silence before Jongho lets out a frustrated cry instead, slamming his fists into one of the walls. Yeosang jumps at the reaction because the walls actually feel like they shudder for a moment from the force of the blow. “Why would he do something so stupid?” he asks though the medic gets the feeling that the younger is not necessarily talking to him. “What if he gets himself killed?” 

Yeosang bites his lip to keep from saying anything because he’s worried, but he isn’t too worried that anything will happen. He has faith that Hongjoong and Wooyoung will bring him back. Still, he can’t help the little, “and whose fault would that be?” from slipping out beneath his breath. 

Jongho hears him though, and rears around to take out his anger on the medic instead. “The Revenant’s!” he yells. 

The older man turns around to face him. “Stop blaming your brother for everything!” he snaps at him. “He didn’t do jack shit.” 

“ _ He’s  _ the one that needs blood.” 

“Yes!” Yeosang agrees, his irritation full blown and clearly audible. “And did it ever occur to you that he  _ never asked for this? _ ” Jongho startles at his words, the aggression leaving his body. “He didn’t volunteer to become a Revenant. Even if he wasn’t already dead for the procedure they wouldn’t have cared. The government took the patients and corpses they needed to make the army they required. Personal feelings were never a factor, so yeah, your brother requires blood to sustain himself now, but stop acting like he’s forced this burden onto you. If anything it’s the other way around.” 

The younger man is stunned into silence, staring at Yeosang unblinkingly. The medic lets the tension drain from his body then, fingers uncurling and shoulders relaxing. It feels good to finally unload all of that. Even better is the peaceful silence that follows because Jongho can’t find any words to argue. 

Unfortunately that peace is short-lived because the next thing Yeosang knows, Jongho is in his personal space, shoving him up against the wall by the window. “What the hell is up with you anyways?” he demands, refusing to budge when Yeosang tries to shove him back. “What is with you and Revenants? You’ve been defending him since the day you found out about him. Why are you always on his side?” 

“His side?” Yeosang scoffs, escaping the younger by ducking beneath his arms when he realizes he doesn’t have the strength to fight him head on. “I’m not taking anyone’s side because there shouldn’t be any side!” 

“Bullshit,” Jongho accuses. He doesn’t make another move towards the medic though, watching him from a short distance. “You act like they’re sooo pitiful. You’re blaming us for not taking care of him. Do you have any idea what they did to us during the war? What Wooyoung went through?” 

“Yes! Of course I know,” Yeosang tells him. “But none of that was your fucking brother’s fault. He didn’t  _ do _ any of that to you. He’s not even taken any blood beyond whatever San has been able to afford him for now. How the fuck are you going to hate him for that? And if anything, you should be ashamed for not helping San! Doesn’t he mean anything to you?” 

“Of  _ course _ he means something,” Jongho says, breaths picking up as he actively avoids Yeosang’s eyes. “He’s...he’s practically part of my family.” 

Yeosang feels sorry for him. But not enough to keep his mouth shut. “Yet you actively watched him get to this point,” the medic scoffs. “Worn, tired, borderline starved to death. You sat back and watched him slowly kill himself mentally and physically trying to stay with the person he loves— _ your brother _ —and you think of him as family?” 

Jongho releases a little gasp at the accusation, and for the first time Yeosang finally seems to have gotten under his skin. He looks hurt and angry, but the medic can practically see the gears in his brain churning, remembering all the times he’d watch but wouldn’t help. 

“You keep acting like your brother’s the problem,” Yeosang tuts. “But he can’t help what he is. You, however, can choose how to help  _ him _ , but you don’t.” 

“You don’t know  _ anything _ —” 

“Maybe I don’t know everything,” he quips. “But don’t act as if I know nothing. San told me his side of the story.” 

“He didn’t tell you everything,” Jongho protests. He tilts his chin up, trying to sound confident in himself despite his shaky voice. 

Yeosang crosses his arms. “Then tell me everything,” he challenges. “You don’t hate your brother because he’s a Revenant. Something happened.” 

Jongho clenches his hands into fists, and he practically throws himself down onto one of the little cots in the room. Yeosang stays where he is, leaning his weight on one foot. “What did San tell you?” he asks. 

The medic is pensive, worried if he should divulge everything he knows. Shrugging, he decides to go with a summarized version. “He told me they had a relationship. It sounded serious,” he glances at Jongho, but the younger doesn’t react. “I know that Yunho was...revived a Revenant. He’d be considered a second generation Revenant. I know that you volunteered to be his Donor during the war, and that you traveled together after it.” 

Jongho threads his fingers together, resting his hands in his lap. “They were engaged,” he blurts out. Yeosang blinks. He knew the relationship was serious, but he hadn’t thought it was  _ that _ serious. “Things fell apart because of, well…” He places his hands behind him to lean backwards. “I really like San. I think I was the only one Yunho told at the time. They never were able to announce it to friends. My brother and I always had a good relationship. I looked up to him a lot, as a kid, you know? That’s why I like San because I could tell—I can still tell—how much he loves him.” 

Yeosang takes a couple steps closer, leaning against the windowsill. “Then what happened? You were his Donor.” 

“Yeah,” Jongho swallows thickly. “The military turned San away because of his medical condition. He wouldn’t have been fit to be a Donor, so I did it. It wasn’t so bad at first. It was weird though. They’d draw my blood and give it to Yunho. He hated to eat in front of me actually,” he laughs at the memory. “But things got worse as time went on. Conditions for Donors were never great, but they got exponentially worse later in the war. All the overcrowding, lack of food and water, the sanitation. It was awful. I saw Yunho less and less too, and when I did see him I could tell that something was off.” 

The elder cocks his head. “What do you mean?” 

Jongho sighs. “Just...I’d talk to him about San. We were separated but we could still send letters back and forth. I’d talk about him, and he would listen, but he had just this look on his face like...he didn’t know who I was talking about.” Yeosang doesn’t say anything, so Jongho continues. “It kept getting worse, but he always seemed to remember me.

“But then the war ended. We got news that the Queen was dead, but no one would tell me where my brother was. I was...anxious, but I figured things would get sorted in time. The Queen was dead. The provisional government could stabilize, but it didn’t. Humans started to be rounded up, the Donor Program only ramped up, Revenants started rioting, and then the provisional government just collapsed.”

Yeosang grits his teeth. Things had been more complicated than that, but hearing it from Jongho’s perspective was different. Political ineptitude and Revenant empowerment had been a huge part of the collapse in the provisional government. It had been made up primarily of humans, but a Revenant had been one of the most influential leaders. Disagreement and political strife had caused the collapse, leaving their tattered society in ruins. Everyone started fending for themselves. 

“I didn’t know what was happening, but I knew I didn’t want to be there anymore so I left the facility. I found Yunho on my own.” 

“Where was he?” Yeosang asks, curious about where the Revenant had ended up after the war. 

Jongho looks away, lips twitching. He can see the reluctance, and he almost takes back his question because the younger man doesn’t have to answer. Before he can, though, Jongho says, “He was with Cerberus.” 

Yeosang hums thoughtfully. He’s not entirely surprised. Cerberus had been an organization, the right hand of the lead Revenant. They’d primarily hunted for active blood springs and any humans not yet under the provisional government’s control. Their goal, ultimately, was rationing the few resources left for Revenants. “How’d you get him out?” 

“It wasn’t hard,” Jongho laughs with a shake of his head. “The groups that sprung up after the provisional government collapsed were even less stable. He  _ wanted _ to leave, but he didn’t know who I was or why I was helping him leave. He thought I was part of the military, and he was waiting for deployment orders.”

“You told him the war was over.” 

“Multiple times,” Jongho confirmed. 

“He didn’t believe you?” 

“He did, eventually, when he realized that no one was worried about her anymore. Everyone’s priority became surviving.” 

“Did you tell him that you were related?” 

“Yes,” Jongho sighs. “Over and over again. I didn’t want to tell him my name. I wanted him to remember, but he never did. He still hasn’t. And then we found San, and…” he trails off, recalling that memory. “I loved my older brother, but I never wanted to punch him more in my life. San had been so relieved and happy, but Yunho didn’t know who he was.” 

“That isn’t his fault,” Yeosang defends. 

“So what? It doesn’t lessen the impact any more!” Jongho bites back. “I’ve watched San slowly kill himself for an asshole who doesn’t even know who he is!” 

“So is that what this is?” the elder asks. “You hate him because he can’t remember his brother? Because he can’t remember his lover? Because the military sent him on a suicide mission over and over again until he could barely remember what his purpose was?” 

“It’s not just that!” Jongho denies. 

“Then what?!” 

“Yunho almost killed him!” 

Yeosang takes in a sharp breath. This is new. San never mentioned that. Jongho doesn’t look smug though. He doesn’t have that same annoying smile whenever he thinks he’s right. He looks devastated. “When?” 

“Few months after the government collapsed,” he says in a small voice. “You can say the parasite didn’t turn him into a deranged monster, but I  _ saw him _ .” 

Yeosang turns his gaze out the window, processing the information slowly. He believes Jongho. He does, but something in his gut says the two of them are interpreting the events differently. That San probably wouldn’t tell him the same thing if he were here because he still is trying to feed the Revenant. “San would have been turned away as a Donor due to his chronic low blood pressure,” he says more to himself than to Jongho. “Not because he can’t donate blood, but because he wouldn’t be able to do it frequently enough to satisfy a Revenant’s blood thirst. He’s only susceptible to dying through substantial blood loss too quickly.” 

“I know that,” Jongho says impatiently. 

A thought crosses Yeosang’s mind, and he turns his head to the youngest. “Did Yunho?” 

“I—what?” 

“Yunho didn’t remember either of you. Still doesn’t. Did he know, prior to that incident, about San’s blood pressure? Did he know not to take too much, too often?” The fact that Jongho seems at a loss for word is answer enough. The medic sighs as he turns his gaze back out the window. “I’m not discounting your experiences. I’m sure you were horrified, and you have every right to be, but you’re blaming your brother for things beyond his control. He didn’t  _ know _ he would hurt anyone because he didn’t know that he should have been careful.” 

Jongho drops his head into his hands, shoulders shaking. “I just wanted my brother back,” he says after a moment. “The person I see now, I don’t know who he is.” 

“You’re so selfish,” Yeosang mutters though his words have little bite in them. He sighs, eyes narrowing as he spots something in the distance. “You know, just because a Revenant’s memories are lost doesn’t mean they can’t be restored.” 

Jongho looks up at him hopefully. “Really?” 

“Yeah,” he pulls away from the window. “I think we have a problem though.” He looks over to the younger man with a concerned expression. “They’re back, but there’s only two of them.” 

  
  
  
  
  


San grunts when he’s deposited onto a stiff, unused bed, immediately scrambling up and as far away from the Revenants as he can. The redhead still looks annoyed, complaining about the blood beads while the blond eyes him critically. 

“Mingi,” the blond interrupts his companion in a quiet voice. The redhead immediately halts his complaints. “Will you find some food and water for our guest?” 

Mingi raises an eyebrow and looks at San who shrinks away from him. “Okay,” he complies easily enough, leaving the room. 

“I’m Seonghwa,” the blond introduces himself once Mingi is gone. San stares at him and says nothing. The Revenant draws closer to his bed. “And you are?” 

San’s eyes dart around the room taking in his surroundings. It’s simple and plain, just a small bed and a nightstand. There’s a closet to the right of the door, but the doors are closed. He isn’t really sure where he is. It looks like an old inn that they’ve repurposed into a living space. It’s an interesting enough choice. 

The Revenant clears his throat, drawing his attention back to him. “A name?” he asks again. 

San trembles, wonders why he asks, but responds in a small voice, “San.” 

Seonghwa nods his head, committing the name to memory. “Alright, San,” he begins, leaning his hip against the end of the bed frame, “you have more human friends?” San tenses up at the question, gaze fearful as he stares at the blond. “Where are you guys set up?” 

The human frantically shakes his head. “I’m not telling you,” he says, pressing his lips into a thin line to keep quiet. 

“You don’t have to be like that,” Seonghwa coaxes. “We could make this mutually beneficial. You help us, we help you kind of thing.” 

“We don’t need help,” San immediately says before pressing his lips together tightly again. He pouts, angry at himself for talking. 

The Revenant laughs at his behavior, not cruelly, but genuinely like he finds him funny. San shifts uncomfortably, unsure of how he feels about that. “Oh?” He eyes the human up and down pointedly. “You definitely look like you could use the help. And you were taking blood beads from us.” San’s lips tremble as he wills himself not to argue with the Revenant, but it’s difficult. “Mingi has a bit of food aggression unfortunately. I’m working on it, but you really scared him with that tactic. I’ve never seen that before. Do you sell them on a black market?” 

“No,” San denies quickly. “I’m not—I  _ need _ them. And I don’t need help from  _ you _ . I have plenty to eat. I just don’t have a big appetite.” 

“Oh, silly human,” Seonghwa sighs. “You really think I believe that? It’s the end of the world. Nobody just refuses food because they’re not hungry.” 

San swallows thickly but doesn’t answer because it’s true, for the most part. He doesn’t really have much of an appetite. It’s hard for him to hold anything down because of how weak he feels half the time. All the blood draws and blood loss just ruin his appetite. It’s not that he’s in want of food. 

“Alright then,” Seonghwa opts for a different subject when San stubbornly stays silent. “How about the blood beads then? What were you taking them for?” 

San decides to change the subject again. “What do you want from me?” 

The blond quirks an eyebrow at him like he finds the question surprising. “Why, blood of course.” 

San’s heart rate picks up, and he shakes his head. No, he can’t. He refuses. There’s only one Revenant he’s  _ ever _ shared his blood with and only one that he’s willing to share with. “You—you can’t,” he stammers, shrinking further into himself. “I have a medical condition. It prevented me from being a Donor during the war, so...so you might as well let me go.” 

The Revenant seems concerned by this information. “What condition?” 

“I have low blood pressure.” 

“Ah, unfortunate indeed,” Seonghwa agrees. 

“Exactly, so I’m not a good snack for either of you. Will you let me go now?” 

The Revenant tuts while shaking his head. “Low blood pressure would certainly excuse you from being a Donor by the provisional government’s standards, but they’re not around anymore.” He shrugs his shoulders like it’s a pity. “I suppose it means less opportunities to feed, but anything to cut back on our use of the blood spring is useful. It’s unfortunate, but I have to take what I can get.” 

San’s heart sinks into his stomach as he stares up at the Revenant. He’s not going to let him go. “Please, don’t eat me,” he whimpers. 

Seonghwa actually snorts at the plea. It’s about the most inelegant San has seen him so far. “I’m not going to  _ eat _ you,” he says. “That would be...such a waste. And if it makes you feel better, I won’t let Mingi feed from you for now. He doesn’t know how to feed off anything but a blood bead.” It, in fact, does not make San feel better. “First we’ll need to get you fed, though. You're no use to us half dead.” 

  
  
  
  
  


Jongho meets Hongjoong and Wooyoung at the entrance of the hospital wing. “Where’s San?” he demands before they can even catch their breaths. The blond looks at Hongjoong before pushing past Jongho to collapse onto one of the cots. Yeosang hands him one of the water bottles he keeps in his ward in case he needs it. 

“When we got there, there were already two Revenants on him,” Hongjoong pants out, shrugging off a bag. It falls to the ground with a small thud. 

“You left him?!” Jongho shouts. 

“We didn’t have a choice,” Hongjoong defends. “We couldn’t have taken them.” 

“We could have,” Wooyoung insists from the bed he’s on. 

“Wooyoung,  _ shut up _ .” Hongjoong looks at Jongho, his expression apologetic. “I’m sorry, Jongho. One of them....he was definitely dangerous.” 

“You left San with someone like that?!” 

“I couldn’t help! He already had him.” 

“This is why I told you I could come,” Jongho argues. “If I had been there—” 

Yeosang inserts himself between the two of them, holding them apart at arms’ length. “Okay, I need you guys to stop arguing for a moment.” 

Jongho looks furious. “He promised he’d bring him back!” 

“And I’m sure he didn’t foresee the circumstances he would find himself in,” Yeosang says, eyeing the two of them. “But more to the point, it doesn’t mean we can’t do anything for San.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“A couple Revenants guarding a blood spring just took your friend,” Yeosang spells out. “He’s probably alive, and they may be willing to negotiate.” 

“You give Revenants too much faith,” Jongho criticizes. 

Yeosang levels him with a pointed look. “You don’t give them enough.” 

“I think you’re fucking insane if you want to talk to a group of Revenants on your own,” Wooyoung chimes in. He takes a swig of his water. 

Yeosang squares his shoulders. “I never said I’d go on my own.” 

The blond quirks a brow at him, the rim of the water bottle pressed against his lips. “I’m not going with you,” he immediately says. 

“I’ll go with you,” Jongho volunteers right afterwards. Hongjoong glares at him. 

“I don’t need another human to come with me. That’d just make us a bigger target for them. Two humans for them to snatch up? They’d do it in a heartbeat.” 

The youngest blinks at his refusal. “Then who the fuck are you going with?” 

A beat of silence passes before Wooyoung snorts. “Oh, my God. You really are insane. You want to take the Revenant?” 

Yeosang looks at Hongjoong. “Yes,” he answers. 

  
  
  
  
  


The redhead, Mingi, San learns, is incredibly talkative, and the human is unsure if he should be scared or not. 

“I mean, a whole bag of blood beads? Who does that? I mean, that’s rude by even Revenant standards.” San takes a slow sip of water and wonders if there’s such a thing as Revenant standards. “But a human doing it? Do they taste that good? I’ve never actually had real blood, to be honest, and blood beads aren’t so bad, but I heard that a Revenant’s taste palate is completely different from a humans. Seonghwa never told me if real blood is better. He says it doesn’t matter as long as we have what we need to survive, but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with enjoying your meal.” 

Honestly, San isn’t even sure what he’s rambling about anymore. Mingi had come back with a plate of food for him and water, and Seonghwa had left him in his care for now. Pretty much since the Revenant has been spouting off complete nonsense. 

“Is it just the two of you here?” San finally asks. He’s curious, but he’s also desperate for Mingi to just  _ stop talking so fast _ . 

The redhead blinks at the question. “Yeah, it’s just the two of us. Seonghwa’s been looking out for me this whole time.” 

“How long is that?” 

“Like...a year and a half?” Mingi estimates, cupping his chin as he thinks about it. San winces internally. That would be after the war. Mingi is an unnecessary Revenant. 

“Is that when you woke up?” 

“No, I woke up a little before that,” the redhead scratches the back of his neck. “I was found by a group of Revenants when I first woke up actually. They told me what had happened and said we should work together. So I did, but they were more or less just a gang. They sent me and others like me out to search day and night for blood beads, and they’d take everything we’d find. It sucked, but then Seonghwa found me in front of a dried up blood spring. I thought I would cry. I was so hungry. He gave me some blood beads, and I’ve been with him since.” 

“So…” San stares at his cup of water. “You just started following him after that?” 

Mingi nods his head eagerly. “Yeah, he takes care of me. He knows way more about, like, everything pretty much, and I’d probably be dead by now if not for him.” 

San feels bad for thinking that might not be such a bad thing. “Like what?” he asks, curious what the blond Revenant knows. 

“Like,” Mingi looks up, eyes narrowing as he tries to think of something. “Like, did you know you can actually trace a blood spring from one to another? As long as they’re alive at least. Their roots are all interconnected.” 

San’s eyes widen. He did not know that. “You can do that?” he asks. 

“Yeah, that’s how we’ve survived this whole time,” Mingi says proudly. “Bet you didn’t know that. Although, I guess you probably don’t need to since you eat, like, normal stuff. We found this blood spring from the last one, and once this one looks like it’ll dry up, we’ll move on.” 

San’s fingers clench nervously around his cup. “What about sources that are dried up? Or maybe other Revenants are guarding? Aren’t you worried about running into either of those?” It would be a precious waste of energy to trace a blood spring already dried up, but more importantly what if they find his blood tree? 

The redhead shakes his head. “Dead trees and springs lose their connection to the underground system. Plus, we scout a little ahead of when we anticipate our source will run out. And this one is still good for the most part, so I think we’ll be okay for awhile.” San relaxes his grip and stops himself just short of sighing in relief. So they won’t find his tree. “Anyways, finding a dead one isn’t so bad either. There’s a trick to revive them. Bet you didn’t know  _ that _ either.” 

The human perks at the information, turning his head to stare at Mingi. “You can revive blood trees?” 

“Sure,” the Revenant answers with a little shrug. 

“How?” San demands. 

But the Revenants tuts, wagging a finger at him. “I’m not allowed to tell. Seonghwa says it’s best to keep the secret between the two of us.” 

“But you just told me it could be done,” San deadpans. 

“Yeah, but I didn’t tell you  _ how _ .” Mingi has a triumphant little look on his face that San scowls at. 

“You’re lying,” the human accuses. 

The redhead sputters. “I am not!” he adamantly denies. “I never lie. You can really do it, but Seonghwa says it’s a last resort thing.” 

“So you’ve never seen him actually do it?” San asks curiously. 

“Well, no, but—” 

They’re interrupted by the door to the room opening, Seonghwa peeking his head inside. “Mingi,” he calls for the other Revenant. As always, the redhead quiets down and waits for Seonghwa’s orders. “It’s time for bed.” The Revenant visibly sulks but drags himself out of the chair he brought into the room anyways. 

“I can’t believe I have a bedtime,” he grumbles as he trudges out of the room. Seonghwa pats him affectionately on the head as he passes before turning back to the human. 

“What were you talking about?” he asks casually, stepping into the room and picking up the empty plate from the nightstand. San hands him the cup as well, water all gone. 

The human hesitates. He runs through the best possible way to position himself. “Not much,” he answers slowly. “He told me how you guys met. That you basically take care of him.” 

“He is pretty hopeless,” Seonghwa agrees though he sounds fond. 

San doesn’t read into it too much. Instead gulping down a lump in his throat as he adds, “He told me you know how to revive blood springs.” 

“Did he?” Seonghwa asks, looking down at San. His expression gives nothing away. 

“Yes, but he didn’t tell me how,” he clarifies. 

The blond cocks his head to the side. “And you would like to know?” San nods his head, trying not to seem too eager. “And why would I tell you?” 

“Well, because…” the human fiddles with his fingers nervously. “Because I’m just a human. What would I be able to do with that kind of information? I’m just a very curious person.” He smiles innocently at the blond, but Seonghwa doesn’t seem to buy it. 

“Hmm, a human I found at a blood spring stuffing his bag full of blood beads wants to know how to revive a blood spring,” Seonghwa thinks out loud. San’s smile fades and he shrinks under the Revenant’s gaze. “Sounds suspicious to me.” The blond shakes his head at his attempt. “Don’t worry, I’ll find your friends eventually, but thanks.” 

San furrows his brows in confusion. “For what?” 

Seonghwa turns his head at the doorway, flashing the human a little grin. “For letting me know they’re near a dead blood spring.” 

San’s throat seizes at the words, and he practically falls out of the bed as he attempts to catch up to the blond. “Wait!” he calls out but the door closes on him. He turns the knob, but it’s locked. He backs away from the door and slowly sinks to the floor at the foot of the bed. 

Shit. 

  
  
  
  
  


Jongho follows Yeosang into San’s room, watching in mild horror as the medic begins to comb through his things. The elder doesn’t seem to care as he yanks open one of the drawers to San’s nightstand and rifles through it. There’s not much in it, but Yeosang digs through it anyway. “What are you doing?” Jongho asks in alarm. 

“I’m looking for something,” he states as if it’s not obvious. He closes the drawer of the nightstand and sweeps his gaze over the room. He goes for the small dresser next. 

“For what?” Jongho asks, unsure if he should just allow the medic to go through San’s things. 

“A trigger,” he opens each of the drawers, rifling through the meager clothes in them. “Sometimes it helps to have an item that might trigger the return of memories.” 

“Like what?” 

Yeosang abandons the dresser, placing his hands on his hips with a frown on his face. He doesn’t answer Jongho because his attention zeroes in on the bed. He dives for it, lifting up the pillow. “Like this,” he says triumphantly, holding up a small velvet box. It’s a simple thing. Just a black box, small enough to fit in Yeosang’s palm. 

Jongho’s breath hitches when he sees the box, and he takes a step back like it might lunge at him. “That’s…” he stares at the box. “How did you know about that?” 

“You told me,” Yeosang says. He opens the box with his other hand to take a peek inside, sighing in relief when he sees a little glint of metal. “You said they were engaged before that probably stopped mattering because of the Great Collapse. It matches the one I saw on your brother.” 

The younger man blinks at the observation, clearly not expecting it. “He still wears that?” 

Frowning, Yeosang closes the box and tucks it carefully into his pocket. “Yes. I suppose he may not remember that it’s important, but—you seem surprised.” 

“It’s not that,” Jongho denies. “I just...didn’t know, or, I guess I didn’t realize that he still had it is all.” Although maybe it is that. He hasn’t really even  _ looked _ at Yunho for years now. That one moment when he’d come out of his cell, Jongho felt like he was suddenly thrust in the past. He could hardly look at him let alone take note of whether or not he still had that ring. 

“How come San doesn’t wear it anymore?” the elder asks. 

“He…” Jongho swallows and looks down at the floor. “He would. He did for a long time.” Jongho can still remember the nights San would just hold his hands to his chest and cry. He still remembers the times he would scold the older when he would waste water to keep it clean rather than for drinking. Eventually though, he removed it, choosing to keep it in its little box under his pillow. “He stopped because he was worried he would lose it.” 

“Huh.” The younger steps aside as Yeosang exits the room. 

“It stopped fitting,” Jongho continues though he isn’t sure why, “as his health started to decline. He lost it once and he had a whole fit. Hongjoong and I spent the whole day looking for it. Since then he kept it in there.” He follows the medic down the hallway towards Hongjoong’s room and hesitates before reaching out to grab Yeosang by the arm. Pausing, the elder looks back at him with a questioning look. “Will that really work?” he asks, gesturing to the ring Yeosang hid in his pocket. “Showing that to him? He’s never reacted to it before.” 

“It’s an imperfect science, recovering memories,” Yeosang admits. “I can’t guarantee anything will work, but something like this may help, and it doesn’t hurt to try, right?” 

Jongho would agree—wants to agree—but he doesn’t, following Yeosang into Hongjoong’s room quietly. He doesn’t because he’s worried. Afraid to get his hopes up. He wasn’t lying. All he wanted was his brother back, but the fear of the blank looks, the memories that would never register held back his hopes. So he remains quiet. 

Hongjoong is immediately on edge when they enter, a set of keys gripped tightly in his fist. He looks between the two of them. Wooyoung is sitting on his bed, eyes fixed on Yeosang. “I’m against this,” he says before Yeosang even asks. 

“I figured,” the medic says, regarding the older man with a frown. 

“You could get us all killed,” Wooyoung says seriously. 

Yeosang fights the urge to roll his eyes. “I could,” he agrees, “but I won’t.” 

“How can you guarantee that?” Hongjoong asks skeptically. 

“Well, for one we have a very confident Revenant slayer,” he answers sardonically while pinning Wooyoung with a pointed look. The blond scowls in return. “But more importantly, Yunho isn’t a danger.” 

“Probably because he’s half starving and weak right now,” Wooyoung points out sarcastically. 

Jongho turns his head away, sneaking peeks at the medic whose jaw clenches in annoyance. “Or maybe because he’s not nearly the deranged monster you seem to think he is. He’s been here for two years now without incident.” He turns his attention to Hongjoong. “You yourself said that he willingly chose this imprisonment for the sake of his very human companions.” 

The eldest taps his toe against the ground anxiously. “And what exactly is the plan?” 

“I think he would assist me if I asked,” Yeosang says confidently. “However, for your sake, I figured I could attempt to restore his memories.” 

“How would that help?” 

“Because,” Yeosang answers forcefully, “you’re clearly  _ scared _ of him, but we have his brother right here and his lover is missing. Is that not reason enough for him  _ not _ to harm any of you?” 

Wooyoung jumps off the bed, and Yeosang squares his shoulders at his aggression. “Why the hell should we trust you anyways?” the blond growls at him. “You’ve been simpering up to that thing since you found out. How do we know you’re not working with them?” 

“How the fuck did you even come to that conclusion?” Yeosang retorts derisively. 

“We found you near that blood spring! You could be working with them! Maybe you’re just trying to lure us out for them, or rescue a fellow Revenant.” 

“This is the  _ stupidest _ thing I have ever heard—”

“Then prove it!” Wooyoung explodes. “Prove that you’re not just trying to get us all killed to help your fucking Revenant  _ friends _ .” 

Annoyed, Yeosang looks to Hongjoong for help, expecting the man to at least tell Wooyoung to shut up, but he looks expectant. Jongho doesn’t say anything, but Yeosang doesn’t expect him to. Sighing, he crosses his arms over his chest. “Why should you trust me with matters involving Revenants?” He holds Hongjoong’s gaze. “Because I lied to you.” 

Hongjoong straightens up. 

“I wasn’t an army medic. I was a junior scientist involved in the research on the BOR parasite and Revenants.” 

  
  
  
  
  


The last thing San expects in the middle of the night as he struggles to cry himself to sleep is for the door to open. He shoots up, tears immediately stopping, and he struggles for a moment to identify the dark figure in his room before the light suddenly turns on. He squints before hiding his eyes behind his hands. Once they’ve adjusted he looks up to see Seonghwa. 

“Are you okay?” the Revenant asks. 

San, at a loss for words, nervously pulls his blanket up. 

“I could hear you crying.” 

“Oh, uh, I’m sorry.” Internally, he berates himself for apologizing because he doesn’t owe it to the person who kidnapped him, but it slips out. 

The Revenant enters the room. San watches warily as he approaches. “May I sit here?” he asks, pointing to the bed. San only backs away in response, shuffling to the far corner of the mattress. The blond takes that as an invitation and sits down at the opposite corner. “I am sorry,” he apologizes, “for taking you like that.” 

“Then why did you do it?” San asks petulantly. 

“Food is scarce nowadays. More and more blood springs are drying up. The humans are dying or hiding.” Seonghwa places his elbow on the bedpost and leans his head against his palm. “Would you not eat a little rabbit if it just fell into your lap? At least we don’t have to kill you to feed.” 

“No,” San denies quickly, making a face at the thought. “I wouldn’t—I couldn’t kill a rabbit. That’s what Wooyoung is for.” 

Seonghwa chuckles at his answer. “Oh, such a sweet boy you are,” he coos affectionately. “Reminds me of Mingi.” The human frowns, a little insulted at being compared to someone that loud and noisy. “Those others, are they your family?” 

“They’re…” San frowns at the question. “No, they’re not...we just kind of….came together.” They’re not a family. Jongho would be the only one San would consider family though even their relationship is becoming strained. They’re just a group of people who banded together. 

“I see. Then did you lose them in the war?” 

San refuses to answer. He lost a lot of things because of the war. His family, his health, his sanity it feels like sometimes. 

“I lost my entire family in the Great Collapse,” Seonghwa says when San doesn’t answer. The human looks up at him. “Technically we all died in the Great Collapse,” he corrects. “I was the only one brought back.” 

Why is he telling him this? San brings his knees up to his chest, hugging them close. “How come?” he ends up asking instead. 

Seonghwa shrugs his shoulders. “Don’t know. I never asked the logistics of it nor was I told. I was given orders, and I followed them. I fought the horrors of the Great Collapse, and then I fought in the war with the Queen. I gave my life for humans.” 

The human bristles at the statement, glowering at him. “I don’t  _ owe _ you for that.” 

“Certainly not,” Seonghwa agrees. “But I didn’t owe the provisional government my dead body either, or my memories, or my humanity, but they took those from me anyway.” San bites into his lip as his thoughts immediately go to Yunho. Did he feel the same way? Does he still? “Humans deemed it necessary for survival. I suppose I can’t fault them for that, and now humans are necessary for my survival. You understand, right?” 

“I—” 

“I don’t hate you guys, humans that is. I...don’t necessarily want to do this, but I’m running out of options. I died, and they brought me back. I just want to live.” 

San flinches, pressing his forehead into his knees so he doesn’t have to look at Seonghwa. He’d never thought about it that way. “You...don’t hate humans?” 

Seonghwa smiles at him. “I was good friends with the human in charge of my care actually,” he admits. “He helped me keep my blood lust under control, and I usually went to him when I’d lose my memory.”

“Oh.” San wonders where this human is now since it appears to be just him and Mingi now. “Where...did something happen to him?” 

“I don’t know,” Seonghwa answers. “He left his post during project QUEEN. Never saw him again. I don’t know if he’s doing okay or not.” 

Lifting his head up, San keeps his eyes trained on his knees, fingers digging into the material of his pants. He still isn’t entirely sure why Seonghwa is telling him this, and he’s still scared out of his mind. But, at the same time, he thinks he understands the Revenant’s point. He never asked for this, the same way Yunho hadn’t, and he couldn’t help what he was now. Like everyone else, he’s trying to survive. So, without much thought, San tells him the truth. 

“I...I won’t tell you where my friends are,” he tells him. “I get it. Blood is your food, and we have it, but I won’t do it.” His voice wavers a little at the end, wondering if he might be making a mistake. “But I took the blood beads because I needed them. There are none where….that spring is the closest one. I took them because there’s a Revenant that I’m also taking care of, and I can’t...my blood isn’t enough, so that’s why, okay? I took them to feed a Revenant as well.” 

Seonghwa raises his eyebrows in surprise. Clearly he hadn’t expected to hear that. “Not enough—but you have other humans around, do you not?” 

San turns his head away and presses his lips into a thin line. “I told you why I took them. I won’t tell you anything else.” 

The blond sighs sweeping his long bangs from his eyes. “What am I going to do with you?” 

  
  
  
  
  


The room immediately explodes into chaos. Wooyoung starts screaming at him at the same time Jongho is hurtling a million and one questions his way. Yeosang supposes he’s not surprised, but he tries to insert an explanation in between all the noise and chaos. It’s impossible to get a word in edgewise between Wooyoung’s aggressive complaints and Jongho’s inquiries. Hongjoong has to raise his voice to quiet the other two. 

“Quiet,” he commands as he settles back against his dresser. “I want an explanation.” The two of them quiet down almost immediately, and Hongjoong gives him a curt nod. It’s a silent request to continue. 

“Thank you.” He moves aside when Jongho moves past him, posting himself up next to Hongjoong and hunching down next to him. It occurs to Yeosang in that moment that the younger always seems to defer to Hongjoong as if he’s an older brother. He shakes it off, trying to focus on the narrative he wants to spin. 

“The parasite was never intended for this purpose,” Yeosang says first. “I was working on it in my postgraduate studies. The technology held potential for medical purposes. That’s what our research was working on, but it was a far off goal, something I never expected to see in a clinical setting in my lifetime.” He takes a deep breath to give himself time to formulate his thoughts. “I envisioned it as a therapeutic for end of life care or otherwise fatal diseases. In the aftermath of the Great Collapse our group was approached by the provisional government with a proposal to use the parasite on human cadavers in an attempt to raise an army.” 

“You agreed?” Hongjoong asks. 

Yeosang shakes his head. “It was my boss’ decision. I’m not saying that to shelf any responsibility. We were told about the project and given the opportunity to withdraw if we desired.” 

“But you didn’t.” 

“It wasn’t the ideal situation,” Yeosang admits with a small sigh. “But this was my work. I wanted to be a part of it, and I understood the dire need at the time, so we went ahead with it. Of course, poorly understood side effects stood in the way. Cell dispersal often resulted in memory loss, and blood lust degenerated into frenzying. We would lose soldiers and create hazards for humanity, but we were repelling the horrors of the Great Collapse.” 

“And Project QUEEN?” Hongjoong asks anxiously. “Were you a part of it?” 

Yeosang turns away from the older man, refusing to look at any of them in favor of staring at the wall. “In some ways I would say my ideas spawned Project QUEEN.” He winces at the gasp he hears following the statement because it doesn’t sound like it came from Hongjoong. It sounded like Jongho. 

“There’s always improvement to be made, new solutions to uncover,” he says. “It was my job. My biggest issue with the Revenants was the blood lust, not only from a PR standpoint but from a logistical and humane one as well.” He licks his lips. “The idea that Revenants required human blood to survive was as repulsive among Revenants as it was among humans, you know. They didn’t want this. In their minds they knew it wasn’t right—it wasn’t what they wanted. Blood Donors, blood lust, frenzying, but the parasite forced it. I was looking into a way to engineer the parasite to lose those requirements so it could symbiotically exist within a body that would still be sustained by a normal human diet. 

“It was just a theory. It would have taken years of research before it would be ready, and it wasn’t even necessary to the military, but they wanted it. Not because it would make their army easier to feed, but because it would potentially eliminate the possibility of frenzying. In the same vein, a colleague was working on the issue of dispersal. They took our ideas and started Project QUEEN with the intent to create a functionally immortal Revenant incapable of frenzying.” 

Wooyoung snorts, unable to help himself. “That’s fucking stupid.” 

“It was  _ insane _ ,” Yeosang agrees, finally turning to look at the blond. “Not only was the understanding of this parasite in utter infancy, the need for such a Revenant was irrelevant. The ones we had certainly had a whole host of issues, but they could have been addressed once some semblance of peace had been established.” 

“Did you...did you leave after that?” Jongho asks him. 

“Not initially,” the brunette admits with a shameful shake of his head. “They wouldn’t even allow a small animal study to be performed, so great was their desire to produce a...a super soldier essentially. I worried about it, and the girl they found who was compatible with the engineered parasite—” he runs his fingers through his hair. “She was a good person. She volunteered because she wanted to help humans and Revenants, but the transplant wasn’t smooth. It was the first time we’d really attempted to place the parasite in a still living being, and it caused her a great deal of pain. I requested the project be terminated, but…” 

He doesn’t need to finish the thought. “I left in the middle of it. Only a few months before she frenzied.” When he’s finished he looks over his shoulder at Hongjoong, eyeing the keys in his hand. “So why should you trust me? Because, frankly, I’m the foremost expert on Revenants here, and I know what I’m talking about.” 

“If anything I trust you even  _ less _ now,” Wooyoung tells him to which Yeosang rolls his eyes. He doesn’t care about the blond’s approval.

Hongjoong at least looks a little more torn, fiddling with the keys in his hand. Then he turns to Jongho and asks, “What do you think? It’s your brother after all.” 

The youngest startles upon being addressed, and he snaps his attention to Hongjoong. “I—” Hesitant, he glances to Yeosang who returns his gaze with a pleading look. He takes a breath. “I believe him, about being an expert on Revenants.” He stares down at his hands which he curls into loose fists. “I want to give it a try, and I want San back.” 

Sighing, Hongjoong glares down at the keys in his hands before reluctantly holding them up. Wooyoung groans, clutching his hair in his hands. “You’re going to get us all killed!” 

  
  
  
  
  


Yunho is understandably confused and suspicious when the lock on the door audibly clicks before it swings open. He’s hardly used to the door ever opening though in the past few days it seems to constantly be opening, and like all the other times it has, he sees the medic, Yeosang, standing before him. Surprisingly, however, he sees three other humans there as well with varying degrees of anxiety expressed on their face. Using the wall as leverage, Yunho warily rises to his feet. 

Yeosang tosses something in his direction which he instinctively catches, frowning down at the blood bead in his hand. “Hungry?” the medic asks. 

The Revenant shakes his head—he’d just eaten the other day, after all—when it registers in his head what exactly he’s holding. “Where did you get this?” he asks, holding the blood bead up. Yeosang’s expression is grim, and a sinking feeling settles in Yunho’s gut. “Has something happened?” He looks at the other humans gathered by the door. He recognizes the small, angry one. The dark haired human seems pensive, shifting away when Yunho’s eyes land on him. And the blood is visibly nervous. But the nice one, San, is missing. 

“San gathered those for you,” Yeosang tells him. He sinks onto his knees, feet tucked beneath him. 

Yunho stares at him while playing with the blood bead in his hands. “My understanding is that the blood tree dried up,” he says carefully. 

The human nods his head while motioning for him to sit down. Warily, Yunho glances at the three others peering in through the door before he joins Yeosang, sitting cross legged in front of him. “The tree is dried up,” he confirms. “There is a blood spring the others found. San collected them there.” Yunho holds the blood bead out for Yeosang to take back. “Are you sure?” the human asks. “You’ve been borderline starving for the last few months.” 

Yunho shrugs. “I’ve grown accustomed to it. I’m not hungry, and those are precious.” He looks down at the blood bead in Yeosang’s hand. “Where...is he?” he asks tentatively. He doesn’t clarify who he’s asking about because the human already knows. 

Yeosang curls his fingers around the bead. “The blood spring is being used by some other Revenants.” He smiles thinly. “They took him.” 

Yunho’s stomach twists, but the only response he can muster is a small, “Oh.” 

“Yeah.” Yeosang taps his fingers nervously against his thigh. “I’ve volunteered to...talk to them. See if I can get him back, but I’d like if you’d accompany me. For protection.” 

“Do you think he’s still alive?” he asks curiously. 

“Until I have reason to think otherwise, yes,” Yeosang affirms. “He’s more valuable alive than dead.” 

“Okay then,” Yunho agrees. “I’ll come with you. I mean, if that’s allowed.” He glances up at the other humans like he’s searching for permission. 

“They're okay with it,” Yeosang answers with a dismissive wave of his hand. “That’s why I’m here to begin with, but I promised to do something in exchange. To help ease their worries.” Yunho raises his eyebrows questioningly at that. “Jongho trusts you—or he trusts his brother. The person you were. So I want to try and bring those memories back for you.” 

Yunho looks uncertain, fingers curling into his shirt. “Can you do that?” 

“I can try,” Yeosang says, lifting his hips up to dig up the little velvet box in his pocket. “I’m assuming San and Jongho have tried to tell you? About your past, I mean. Your relationships with them?” 

The Revenant looks around nervously. “Yes,” he admits in a strained voice. “But I don’t—I can’t remember.” 

“That’s okay,” Yeosang assures him. “I just want to know if you’re aware.” Yunho nods his head because he knows. He knows who they are, he just can’t remember exactly. “Do you believe them?” The question catches him off guard, and he blinks at the medic in confusion. “When Jongho says you’re his brother? Or when San tells you about your relationship, do you believe them?” 

“I—” Yunho hesitates. His gaze wanders around the little cell again before settling on something over Yeosang’s shoulder. He guesses that the Revenant is looking at Jongho. “I...do,” he eventually says though he doesn’t sound too confident. The skepticism must show on Yeosang’s face because he’s quick to jump in with an explanation. “I mean, I do. We’ve been together for awhile, and they haven’t killed me yet, so…” Jongho turns his head away, face aflame with embarrassment. 

“The bar is low,” Yeosang mutters under his breath. With a little sigh he holds out his fist, velvet box wrapped up protectively. The Revenant is slow to hold out his hand, but when he does Yeosang places it into the palm of his hand. “Do you recognize this?” he asks. 

Yunho pulls the box closer to himself, leaning his head forward to inspect it critically. He doesn’t recognize it unfortunately, but it feels oddly nostalgic to look at. “I don’t,” he answers after a long moment. 

“But?” Yeosang prompts, sensing it coming. 

Yunho almost seems to be weighing the box in his palm. “It feels valuable. Important,” he notes. He opens the box out of curiosity and pauses when he lays his eyes on the silver ring nestled inside. He recognizes that ring. Turning his own hand over, he stares down at the dirtied silver band around his finger. He’d never even put thought into it before, just assumed it was an accessory he hadn’t yet lost. Yet here is a twin of that ring. “It’s the same as mine,” he observes, looking back and forth between the two rings. 

“Yes,” Yeosang agrees, shifting his sitting position to put more weight on his hips. “Do you remember who that one belonged to?” he asks, motioning to the ring in its velvet box. 

The answer is probably quite obvious. Even if Yunho doesn’t remember everything, he’s still aware. Nevertheless he’s hesitant to answer and, instead, spends a few moments looking between his ring and the one he’s holding. There’s a long moment of silence after that, but Yeosang doesn’t press, waiting for the Revenant’s response. Eventually something must click in his mind because he abruptly closes the box with a spooked expression. 

Yeosang watches him carefully, waiting to see if he’ll say something but he doesn’t. “Did you remember something?” he asks gently. 

“I don’t know,” Yunho responds, fingers playing with the little velvet box in his hand. “What is this?” he asks, trying to hand the box back to the medic. 

Yeosang holds his hands up and refuses to take it back. “You tell me,” he responds. 

“I don’t know!” 

“You do,” the brunette assures him. “I know you do. You remembered something. Tell me about it.” 

“I don’t know,” Yunho repeats with more uncertainty. “I don’t know if it’s a memory.” 

“Tell me what came to your mind. Whatever it was.” 

The Revenant’s fingers flex around the box nervously, avoiding Yeosang’s gaze. “It was...I saw him.” 

“Who?” Yeosang asks. He almost asks if it’s San, but he doesn’t want to lead in anyway. 

Yunho looks over his shoulder and points. “Him.” Yeosang turns his head over his shoulder even though he’s fairly certain that he must be pointing at Jongho. The younger man seems shocked, jaw slack and eyes wide. “Jongho,” he says the name hesitantly like he’s testing it out on his tongue. 

“Okay,” Yeosang says slowly. It’s not exactly what he’d been expecting, but he should have memories of Jongho so he still thinks this is an overall good sign. “What else?” 

Yunho squeezes the box. “He helped me pick it out,” he says after a moment. Judging by the sharp little intake of breath from behind him, Yeosang assumes the memory is accurate. “I saved up for months for this. I wanted to get something expensive and nice, but...Jongho didn’t think it was a good idea. He thought something simple like this would be better.” He doesn’t seem comfortable saying the younger’s name still.

He hears someone take a step behind him, but Yeosang holds his arm out in a silent signal to stop. He doesn’t want to hear Jongho’s input. He just wants to hear Yunho right now. “Do you remember why?” 

Placing the box in his lap, Yunho rubs at his ring self-consciously, trying to rub off the dirt and grime that’s packed onto it. “It—we never wanted it to be something too serious. Just a promise between us. I wanted to get something nice for San. It was my promise to him, but Jongho thought it would be nicer to get something simple and matching.” He looks down at his fingers, twisting the band around pensively. “I remembered San really liked them.” 

“You remember both of them?” 

“I—yeah.” He looks down at the velvet box in his lap. “I’m scared,” he admits. 

“It’s okay,” Yeosang assures him. “It’s totally understandable especially if you’re being inundated all at once—” 

“No, I’m scared about San,” Yunho interrupts him. “You said Revenants took him.” 

“We can get him back,” Yeosang replies diplomatically, though the Revenant doesn’t look so convinced. “You’ll help then, right?” 

“Of course I will,” Yunho says hoarsely like it’s not even a question. 

“I’m coming too,” Jongho volunteers, stepping into the cell while shaking off Hongjoong’s grip on his arm.

“Jongho,” Hongjoong says slowly. 

The younger looks at him. “We can go, right? You...you saw. He’s on our side.” 

“Our side,” Wooyoung snorts derisively like it’s the funniest joke he’s heard. 

“Hongjoong,” Jongho starts to beg before Yeosang interrupts him. 

“The longer we wait the more time we’re leaving San, a fellow human, with a group of unknown Revenants.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t think they’ll kill him, but I don’t necessarily know  _ what _ they’ll do to him either. I’m willing to help, but I’m not going without some form of protection.” He motions to Yunho. Hongjoong frowns but doesn’t say anything in response, evidently still torn. 

“He got himself into this mess,” Wooyoung grumbles, “I say we leave him.” Hongjoong elbows him harshly while Yunho rises to his feet, shoulders tense and hands clenched into fists. 

“You don’t get to decide that,” the Revenant says before anyone else can speak. He catches Hongjoong’s gaze. “I’ll ask for permission to be polite, but I’m going even if it means we’re not welcome back.” 

Hongjoong bites his lip, looking between the three of them in the cell and then at Wooyoung who scowls. Reluctantly, he moves to the side. It’s silent permission, but they all understand it. Wooyoung makes a little noise of disbelief in the back of his throat, but the brothers both jump at the opportunity. Jongho steps aside when Yunho ducks out of the cell, shooting Hongjoong a grateful look. The younger brother follows after him. Yeosang slowly stands to his feet as well to follow them out. He grabs Hongjoong by the wrist when he passes by though. 

“I’d like to talk to you,” he tells the older man. 

  
  
  
  
  


Jongho leads the way to the blood spring because he’s the only one of the three who knows the way. Despite this, Yunho seems nervous about him coming along. He’d asked Jongho at the very beginning if he should really be coming with them because it would be safer for him to stay with the others. Jongho had argued that he was the only one who knew where to go, and Yunho hadn’t brought it up since. Yeosang thinks it’s probably equal parts a silent admission that Jongho has a point and being too scared to engage in a real argument with the younger man. 

Yeosang himself hasn’t said much either, but he’s been primarily trying to plan ahead with what little information he knows. So for the most part their journey is silent. No one says much of anything. Eventually though, Jongho speaks up. “What else do you remember?” he asks. 

Apparently Yunho doesn’t immediately recognize that he’s being addressed because no one answers his question. Yeosang looks up, staring at the youngest’s back for a second before his gaze shifts over to Yunho. He reaches out to poke the Revenant in the side. Yunho jumps, whipping his head to look at him questioningly. “He’s talking to you,” he says with a little hand wave towards Jongho. 

“Oh.” Yunho glances nervously at Jongho. “What else do I remember?” he repeats. 

Jongho looks over his shoulder. “Yeah,” he says. “I’m just...what else do you remember? About the past.” 

Yunho furrows his eyebrows, casting his gaze down to his shoes. When he doesn’t answer right away, Jongho looks over his shoulder with a disappointed expression. “You don’t remember anything else?” 

“It’s not that,” Yunho says slowly. “I remember some things.” 

“Besides just the ring?” Jongho clarifies. 

Yunho pauses as he thinks. “I remember the first time you and San met,” he eventually answers. The younger perks up at the notion. “He was so nervous, and he accidentally spilled his water all over you at one point.” Yeosang hides his laugh behind his hand while Jongho snorts, probably recalling the incident. “He thought he ruined everything, you know.” 

“What about other things?” he probes. “Like our childhood?” 

The Revenant quiets again at the inquiry, twisting his ring around his finger. “I...don’t recall much of anything from being a kid,” he admits. “I don’t know.” 

“Childhood memories aren’t easy to recall even as an adult,” Yeosang points out in defense, shooting Jongho a pointed look. “This will be a gradual process for him.” 

“I understand,” Jongho mutters under his breath, petulant about being scolded. “I was just wondering.” 

“Do we have a plan?” Yunho asks to change the subject. He doesn’t really want to talk about his memories anymore. It feels patchy. Jongho turns his head to look at Yeosang who frowns and reluctantly shrugs his shoulders. 

“It’s hard to say without knowing who took him. We don’t even know how many there actually are.” 

Yunho hugs himself, hunching his shoulders down while Jongho clears his throat. “What about in your past experiences?” he asks tentatively. “I mean, you’ve...you said you dealt with some before, right? Do you think we’re in danger?” 

“It honestly depends,” Yeosang says truthfully. “I’ve dealt with Revenants who are perfectly reasonable. We trade and then go our separate ways. I’ve also dealt with some who were more violent than others. They took what they wanted from me by force. It’s just like trying to deal with any other human you come across. You don’t know if their first instinct will be to fight or not.” Yunho winces and shies away from him at that. “But there is one thing that I don’t know if I find concerning or not.” 

“What?” Jongho asks nervously. 

“The fact that this might be a group we’re dealing with.” Yeosang chews on his lower lip thoughtfully. “I personally never ran across a group of Revenants before, and I actively avoided ones that I’d heard of.” 

“Why?” Yunho asks this time. 

“Most Revenants have a lone wolf mentality,” Yeosang explains to him. “It makes sense. They feel more isolated than humans due to their nature. They compete more for the limited resources they need. The only times I’d heard of groups, they tended to be no better than a group of thugs. They’d force those lower on their hierarchy to do all the dirty work of gathering blood beads or hunting down humans.” He shakes his head. “This could be one of those.” 

Jongho slows his pace down until he eventually comes to a halt. “What do we do in that case then?” 

Yeosang smiles wryly. “Run,” he suggests. 

“But San…” 

Yeosang crosses his arms over his chest, shaking his head. “I’m willing to help you, but I’m not going to give up my life for this,” he tells him. 

A moment of silence passes between the three of them before Yunho pulls away to continue in the direction they’d been traveling. “Well, I’m willing to give up mine,” he mutters under his breath as he passes. Yeosang only stares at his back, and Jongho scrambles to catch up to him. 

  
  
  
  
  


“The blood spring is just a couple blocks up that way,” Jongho says, pointing in the direction he’s talking about. He hesitates, arm dropping to his side. “What should we do?” he asks Yeosang. 

The medic looks around the area they’re in. “This is a fairly small town,” he observes before turning his attention to Yunho. The Revenant side eyes him. “Can you feel anything?” he asks. “Anyone?” 

Yunho rubs at his nose and looks around the area. “Yes,” he answers carefully. “I don’t know where, but yeah. I can feel someone.” 

Yeosang frowns. “Just one person?” 

Shaking his head, the Revenant fiddles with his ring nervously. “No. I feel San. He’s...worried and scared, but he seems okay.” Jongho releases an audible sigh of relief at the news. “There’s two other distinct people I can pick out,” he informs, looking to Yeosang for guidance. 

The medic nods his head. “Good. We outnumber them then,” he notes to himself. 

“Whoa, you can really pick out people?” Jongho asks curiously. “Just like that?” 

Yunho nods his head shyly. “It’s not exact or anything,” he explains vaguely. “I’m just....I’m aware that they’re around somewhere.” 

“Which means they also know that we’re here,” Yeosang tells them. Jongho tenses up at the notion, and Yunho looks around the abandoned buildings warily. “Stick close to each other. Let’s hope we find them first.” 

As opposed to the way here, Yunho takes the lead of their group this time. They walk close enough to the blood spring to spot it from a distance, but wisely choose to give it a wide berth. It’s too obvious. They round a corner when the Revenant abruptly doubles back, barreling Yeosang over in the process to grab onto his brother’s arm and yanking him closer. Jongho yelps, stumbling into Yunho as he tries his best not to step on Yeosang, though the medic groans when his toes dig into his side. 

“Who’s there?” Yunho demands as he reaches down to help Yeosang to his feet. The brunette quickly scrambles up to his feet, retreating behind Yunho and grabbing onto Jongho by the wrist in case they need to make a run for it. “I know you’re there,” the Revenant says, voice shaky as he peers around the corner. 

“Are you sure?” Yeosang asks quietly. Maybe the paranoia is just getting to them. 

But then they hear the distinct sound of someone clearing their throat before a figure emerges from a little alleyway near the intersection they’re by. “This is unexpected,” he says as the three of them tense. 

Yunho shields the both of them with his body, eyes darting around because there’s only one in front of him. “Where’s San?” he asks in between his multitasking. The Revenant opposite him pauses at the question, carefully observing Yunho with his head cocked to the side. 

Yeosang peers around Yunho’s side to catch a glimpse of the other Revenant and a lump forms in his throat. He recognizes him. “Seonghwa?” the name escapes his lips before he can rethink the decision. 

The blond’s gaze immediately zeroes in on him. Yeosang half expects the Revenant won’t recognize him, but his narrowed eyes widen with recognition. “Doctor Kang?” he asks in disbelief. 

“You know him?” Jongho asks. 

“Knew,” Yeosang corrects before addressing the blond Revenant. “I told you, I’m not a doctor.” 

“You were mine,” Seonghwa replies. 

The brunette clears his throat. “You took a human?” he changes the subject. 

“Times are tough lately,” the blond says by way of defense, looking between the three of them. “I haven’t fed off of him if that’s what you're worried about. He’s too weak.” 

“So what did you do to him?” Jongho demands. Yeosang tightens his grip around his wrist to keep him from engaging with the Revenant. 

“Fed him?” Seonghwa responds sarcastically. His gaze lingers on Yunho though. “He said he was feeding a Revenant. You? I presume.” Yunho’s finger twitches but he doesn’t say anything. 

Yeosang nudges the Revenant aside so he can talk to Seonghwa, and the taller man reluctantly obliges. “We wanted to talk,” he explains. “I wasn’t expecting to run into you.” 

“Well, I wasn’t either. I thought...I wondered if you were alive or not,” he admits. 

Yeosang presses his lips into a thin line to avoid speaking on that topic. Perhaps his only regret leaving his post was all the Revenants he had left behind in the process. The ones who trusted him. “You’re traveling with someone else?” he questions instead. 

“Just one other,” Seonghwa gives up the information easily enough. His posture relaxes, evidently comfortable in Yeosang’s presence at least. “He was abandoned by the provisional government before he ever woke up. You understand, right?” Surprisingly, it’s Yunho who makes a sympathetic noise. 

“We want to talk,” Yeosang reiterates instead. 

With a sigh, Seonghwa shrugs his shoulders. “Alright. Come with me.” 

  
  
  
  


San startles when he hears the sound of a door slamming open and a commotion happening somewhere in the building. It sounds like it’s coming below him, and he hops off the bed nervously. He can still hear talking when footsteps echo down the hallway, pausing outside of his door. When the door opens, San shrinks away, ducking behind the bed even though Mingi already saw him. 

“Hey,” the redhead calls, circling the bed to reach him. “Seonghwa wants you to come downstairs to talk.” 

“Talk about what?” San asks, cowering when the redhead reaches out to grab his arm. 

“I don’t know,” Mingi shrugs. “You? I mean, Seonghwa told me to come get you after all.” San whimpers when Mingi grabs him by the arm but doesn’t offer much by way of resistance when he’s pulled out of the room. He stumbles a bit, and the Revenant finally pauses to make sure he’s okay before leading him down the stairs to the little bar in the front lobby. There’s a group of people already gathered there and San freezes at the sight of them. Or rather he freezes at one particular person. 

Yunho jumps off the bar stool he’s sitting on when he spots him. San stares at him, almost convinced he’s looking at some sort of illusion, but he also sees Jongho and Yeosang nearby. Honestly, he can’t tell if that lends more credence to this being an illusion or not. 

“Hold it,” Seonghwa says from his own seat fixing Yunho with a look. The Revenant hesitates, looking over to San. Yeosang eventually taps him on the shoulder before he finally sits back down. The blond spares his captive a glance before turning to the three of them. “Now, I know he might not look like he’s a great shape, but I assure you this is how we found him. I’m sure you’ll see he’s really no different in your care.” 

Yeosang bites the inside of his cheek. “Is that a dig at me?” he barks, barely noticing when Jongho places a hand on his knee to try and calm him. 

“I suppose you don’t have the greatest record for seeing through to your patients’ care,” Seonghwa laments. 

The medic scowls at him. “First, I didn’t abandon you. I told you I was leaving my post. And second,” he makes a motion towards San, “I’ve known him a few weeks at most.” Jongho squeezes his knee hard enough that Yeosang takes notice. Taking a deep breath, he calms himself down. “Anyways, that’s not what we’re here to discuss.” 

Seonghwa huffs petulantly at his answers but leaves the matter alone. Instead he lifts an arm up to beaken San over, but the human remains rooted in place, his skin pallid. Mingi has to help him over with a hand on his waist. He reaches out for Yunho as soon as he’s close enough, and, surprisingly, Seonghwa doesn’t protest when the taller Revenant pulls him in close for a hug, lifting him onto his lap. The two Revenants share a look, and Seonghwa smiles. 

Yunho clearly recognizes him as a threat. 

“You don’t have to look so scared,” he assures the Revenant, crossing one leg over the other. “You guys said you wanted to talk. It’s not as if I’ll attack you.” 

Yunho glances over towards Mingi, less worried about him but still wary of the two Revenants. “You’ve seen a lot,” he finally says, looking back at the blond with the same cautious expression. 

“Haven’t you?” the blond questions. Yunho tightens his hold around San, and the human presses his face into the Revenant’s neck. 

“Seonghwa is a first generation Revenant,” Yeosang supplies. Both Yunho and Jongho tense up on either side of him. Evidently neither have ever come across a first generation Revenant which isn’t all that surprising. In terms of numbers, they were the smallest group created, but they were effective. The number of second generation Revenants exponentially outnumbered them. 

The blond grins at their reactions. “It’s true,” he confirms. “I was the first Revenant Doctor Kang ever made.” 

“It’s Yeosang,” the medic corrects with a scowl. “And ‘made’ is not the right term for it.”

“Is that how you know him?” Jongho whispers next to him, gaze shifting between the redhead and the blond. 

“It was my work,” Yeosang answers. “I needed to know what the parasite was doing to the Revenants we were...reviving. I asked if I could perform a transplant. See the process through.” He crosses his arms pensively. “His cadaver was the one they gave me.” Jongho hisses in a mixture of disgust and horror, staring at the blond and trying to imagine that he was deceased at some point. It’s hard to wrap his head around. 

“He took good care of me too,” Seonghwa points out, smiling at the human who meets him with a level look. As much as Jongho wants to turn away, he forces himself not to.  _ Don’t show fear _ , he tells himself as he glares right back at the blond. “Until he left, that is.” The Revenant’s expression falls, eyes distant as he recalls the past. He shakes it off before turning a smile to them. “But that’s not what you’re here for, huh? You want to talk, right?” 

“We’re taking San back,” Jongho tells him without skipping a beat. 

“Absolutely not,” Seonghwa retorts easily. 

Yeosang clears his throat, shooting Jongho a warning look. “What is it that you want?” he asks, stepping in to act as the negotiator. 

“Isn’t it obvious? Food.” Seonghwa shrugs it off like it’s no big deal. Yunho tries to curl San up in his arms in an endearingly protective manner, his expression unimpressed. Yeosang keeps his cool easily enough though he has to wrap his arms around Jongho’s waist to keep him under control. 

Still the youngest human spits at him, “We’re not  _ food _ .” 

The blond raises an eyebrow at him. “Your blood certainly is,” he responds dismissively. Then his gaze slides over to Yeosang. “More and more blood springs are drying up. They won’t be a reliable source of food for Revenants much longer. What do you think will happen then? I offered a deal to your friend and the other humans: blood for protection, but he didn’t seem interested in taking it. So I guess I’ll just take the blood then.” 

Yeosang sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose because he doesn’t want to think about it. It’s too much of a headache to think about, but Seonghwa has a point. Yeosang knows that he does because it’s a problem that plagues him every now and then. A little bit more so now that he seems to be surrounded by Revenants. “They wouldn’t take you up at that offer anyways. San’s just saving you time.” 

“It’s a shame,” Seonghwa laments. “Things could be so much easier if we could just see eye to eye on this.” 

“We’re not the ones drinking blood,” Jongho grumbles. 

Mingi bristles in annoyance at the tone. “Maybe, but what about him?” He jabs a finger in Yunho’s direction. “He’s a Revenant, but you’ll feed him?”

“He’s different,” Jongho stammers at the same time that Yunho says, “He doesn’t feed me anyways.” Yeosang watches as the brother’s exchange wary looks with each other before inevitably looking away.

“Blood springs are drying up every day. It won’t be too much longer before we’ll have to rely solely on humans to sustain ourselves. It’s regrettable, but I’m not going to just lie down and wait to frenzy once the blood beads are gone.” Seonghwa crosses his arms over his chest. “You’ll have to excuse my crude behavior...Yeosang,” he hesitates to use the name as if he’s testing it out. “But I also figure I’m less of a threat as a whole if Mingi and I are not frenzying.” 

“I would agree with you on that,” Yeosang says without any protest. “You seem familiar with the state of the blood springs. What do you know?” 

Seonghwa shrugs his shoulders. “I’m no expert,” he denies, “but I would say that most blood springs we come across are dead or dying. Many Revenants have formed groups to hunt for them, but they’re largely ineffective.” He glances over to Mingi who stares down at his feet. “As blood beads become more scarce I have seen Revenants turn to hunting humans instead.” 

Yeosang presses his fingertips against his temples, attempting to massage away his incoming headache and sighing as he processes this information. “And you and your friend?” he asks, gaze briefly flicking over to the redhead before settling on Seonghwa. “Your status?” 

“We’re both healthy and well-fed. For now at least. I know how to trace one blood spring to another, but it’s not a perfect method, and we’ve come across our fair share of springs that lead nowhere. We’re risking it every time we leave a dead blood spring behind.” His gaze settles on San who hasn’t so much as made a sound this whole time. “It would be rather foolish to let a human go when they’re difficult enough to come across.” 

Biting his lip, Yeosang looks at the dark haired human curled up in Yunho’s lap, and his heart twists at the sight. “I understand.” He’s been seeing it first hand for the past few weeks after all. “Then I propose a trade.” 

“I won’t just accept that you’ll offer blood,” Seonghwa says before Yeosang can propose his offer. “Don’t take it the wrong way, doctor. I just don’t trust humans. Things were different when we knew each other.” 

“I know, and I’m not asking you to trust that will give you blood. I’m asking you to trade.”

The blond raises an eyebrow, glancing back and forth between Yeosang and San. Jongho tugs at the back of Yeosang’s shirt. “We outnumber them,” the younger notes in a quiet voice so only Yeosang can hear. “And we have Yunho. We should just—” Yeosang shakes his head stiffly and curtly so that it’s hard to tell he’s even made a motion. Jongho seems to get it though, backing down. 

“We’re in no shape to be doing that,” he responds just as quietly before turning his attention back to Seonghwa. He clears his throat, going through his proposal in his head one more time because is he really planning to do this? “I’d like to avoid fighting if possible, so let’s trade instead. Allow San go back with his family, and I’ll stay here in his place.” He doesn’t really think he owes it to Hongjoong and his little ragtag group of humans, but he does think he at least owes it to Seonghwa. There was a time he took care of the Revenant. If the provisional government was still around, there’s a good chance he would still be doing that. 

His proposal captures everyone’s attention, though. All eyes seemingly fixed on him. Even San lifts his head up to peer at him over Yunho’s shoulder with a look of disbelief. “What?” Jongho breaths out behind him. He feels the younger man grab him by the wrist like he intends to stop him from physically leaving. Yeosang places his own hand on top of his, trying to pry it off. 

“That’s your proposal?” Seonghwa asks skeptically. 

“Do you not get the better end of the stick?” Yeosang challenges. “You’ve captured a sickly human. He’s not up to par with your feeding needs, especially considering your friend.” He tilts his head in Mingi’s direction. “I, on the other hand, am perfectly healthy. On top of that, as you like to continuously point out, I am trained in the care of Revenants.” He licks his dry lips, finally managing to remove Jongho’s hand from him. “It’s not a bad deal. I’ll stay here as a resource, and you leave them alone.” 

Seonghwa narrows his eyes at him, slipping out of his seat to stand up. He doesn’t have the most intimidating of figures, but he carries himself with a certain air. The air of a soldier. “And what exactly is stopping me from keeping you all here?” he asks, glancing at Yunho. “Your Revenant friend might be able to put up a fight, but I’d win, and you know it.” 

Yunho glares back at him, turning his body to deposit San in Jongho’s arms. The younger grabs him by the elbow with one hand, the other coming around his waist to support him. Yunho moves to stand up as well, but Yeosang places a hand on his shoulder and pulls him back down. “Because you’re not that kind of person, Seonghwa,” the medic says in a low voice. “Unless the Queen really did change you.” 

“Don’t talk about that like you were there!” Seonghwa yells, voice so loud even Mingi flinches from him. “You have no right.  _ I  _ fought in the war against her. She was more of a monster than any of the horrors from the Great Collapse. I was the one throwing my body at her over and over again, not you! I almost wished she’d killed this damned parasite in me just so I wouldn’t have to wake up again.” His breaths come out heavier, but Yeosang stares unflinchingly at him. Yunho, however, winces at his tirade, and the blond immediately zeroes in on it. “He knows what I’m talking about,” he jerks his chin in the Revenant’s direction. 

Silence follows his outburst which Seonghwa uses to compose himself. “Even so, I still fought for humanity. I still followed my orders because the provisional government promised they’d take care of us once we fulfilled our duty. I did that, and they abandoned us.” 

“They fell apart,” Yeosang protests. 

But Seonghwa waves him off. “Semantics,” he mutters. “Humans scattered immediately in the aftermath of the provisional government’s fall. Revenants started fighting each other for the limited blood beads available around the provisional government. Eventually we also left in search of more food. I died in the Great Collapse, Yeosang, and this is the world you brought me back to.” 

Speechless, the brunette twists his fingers into his shirt, unable to meet the Revenant’s eyes. For the first time in a long while, he feels like he’s on the back foot. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes in a small voice. “I left to protest project QUEEN. I didn’t—” 

“I know that’s why you left,” Seonghwa interrupts with a sigh. He sits back down in his seat at the bar. “I accept your offer,” he says after a moment of silence. “They can go if you stay.” 

  
  
  
  
  


“Hongjoong still has the blood beads you took,” Yeosang tells San. The three humans are gathered in a corner of the little hotel lobby because Yunho had, surprisingly, asked if he could speak to Seonghwa privately. Of course, privately apparently meant his little redhead shadow following after him, but Yunho hadn’t protested. “It should last you at least a few months if you supplement it with your own blood.” 

San is barely listening to him though, tugging anxiously on his arm. “What about you though?” 

“Don’t worry about me anymore,” Yeosang advises him. “This is where we part ways. You’d be better off forgetting about me.” 

“No,” Jongho protests for him. “I don’t like this. You shouldn’t have to stay here.” 

“We made a deal,” the brunette reminds him. Jongho tightens his grip on Yeosang’s hand which he’d taken a hold of almost as soon as the three Revenants left to lobby to discuss whatever was on Yunho’s mind. 

“So?” he challenges. “We could just make a break for it. You don’t belong here! You belong with us because you’re—” He suddenly cuts himself off. 

“Because I’m human?” Yeosang guesses with a wry smile. “And yet you’re still with your Revenant brother.” 

“That’s different,” Jongho mutters, parroting the same phrase he’d used earlier. 

“I helped you restore some of his memories, and San will be going back with you. What more do you want from me?” Jongho looks down at their hands, thumb rubbing over the brunette’s knuckles. He doesn’t answer. 

San, however, perks up at the first part of his statement. “Wait, what?” he asks. “You restored his memories? Yunho’s?” 

“It’s only partial,” Yeosang tells him. “They may all come back or some memories might never be recovered. At any rate, he seems much more aware of who you two are.” He turns to give Jongho a pointed look. “So, please, look after him from now on. Once the blood beads run out,” he changes the topic as he looks back to San, “if it’s still just you, San, you need to consider the necessity of moving to find another source of blood beads. You can’t go back to what was happening before. You’ll kill yourself, and you won’t help Yunho either.” 

“I’ll help,” Jongho volunteers without any coaxing. “I can be his Donor again, just  _ please _ reconsider—” 

The Revenants return at that moment, cutting Jongho off. Yunho looks between his brother and San curiously, giving Yeosang a curt nod of acknowledgement when the medic quietly excuses himself from their conversation. He makes his way over to Seonghwa, standing awkwardly near the blond. The Revenant looks at him before glancing over to Yunho. 

“Shall I show you where you can stay?” he offers the medic who peeks at him. “I believe they’ll need their own private time.” Yeosang looks over at the trio as well, struggling internally with his own feelings. He doesn’t really know them, and he doesn’t think he owes them anything. They provided him with shelter and food in exchange for his services. It was all just a trade. It was survival. But he’d be hard pressed to admit that he thinks he might miss them. If only a little. 

“Sure,” he agrees, following after the blond with Seonghwa motions for him to come. 

“We’re not honestly doing this, are we?” Jongho asks when Yunho approaches. The elder brother shifts his weight from one foot to the other but doesn’t say anything for the moment. “We’re not just going to leave, right? What about Yeosang?” 

“He’s made his decision,” Yunho points out, glancing down to San who seems equally distressed by the notion. “We should be grateful.” 

San hides his face behind his hands and murmurs a small, “This is my fault.” 

Jongho frowns at his words, chest tightening up with feelings of guilt. If anything this is his fault. Yeosang had been arguing for days for him to just help out, had picked a fight with almost everyone over just keeping Yunho fed. In retrospect, he feels stupid for stubbornly refusing such an easy request. The fear is still there, but, looking at his brother now, he doesn’t really feel the same kind of disdain as he had previously. 

Maybe if he’d just listened to Yeosang this wouldn’t have happened. San wouldn’t have felt like Yunho’s life was in danger; he wouldn’t have stupidly run off to collect blood beads without even telling anyone. He could have had his brother back. They could have stayed safe back on the base, but he just  _ wouldn’t listen _ . He doesn’t voice his thoughts though, too ashamed to really admit them. 

“Don’t blame yourself,” Yunho consoles him. “None of us knew what we were getting into with this, and this is—probably—the best case scenario for us.” He glances behind him to see if they’re still around, but Seonghwa and Yeosang have disappeared, and the redhead, Mingi, is nowhere to be seen. “The redhead isn’t much of a threat, but I wouldn’t have wanted to start a fight with Seonghwa. He knows what he’s doing.” 

“But still…” San’s voice is watery like he’s on the verge of crying. 

“Don’t,” Yunho pleads in a strained voice, arms lifting up for a second like he intends to pull the other into a hug. He seems to think better of it though because they quickly fall back to his side. Jongho bites his lip as he watches. When did everything get so awkward? “I came to make sure you got back safely. Please don’t cry.” 

“I’m not crying,” San denies. He finally lifts his head up, wiping at his eyes. He isn’t crying, but it’s obvious he’s been on the verge of it. 

“What now?” Jongho asks, looking to Yunho for guidance. “We’re just free to go?” 

The elder hesitates before nodding his head, one hand digging into his pockets like he’s searching for something. “Yes, that’s the deal. Seonghwa agreed to it, and Yeosang is clearly staying.” He reaches for San’s hand with his free hand, lifting it up, palm up, before pulling the other from his pocket. He places something in his hand, and Jongho blinks when he recognizes the velvet box. 

San stares at it with a shocked expression, body completely frozen. “Where—where did you get this?” he finally asks, checking to make sure the ring is still nestled safely within before cradling it close to his chest. 

“Yeosang found it and showed it to me. I was just holding onto it to make sure it got back to you.” 

San hugs it close. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “I’m sorry I’m not wearing it anymore. It’s not—it’s just because it doesn’t quite fit anymore, and I’ve been terrified of losing it.” 

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” Yunho says with a little smile. “I understand. I can tell it’s still clearly precious to you.” He rubs his own matching ring subconsciously. “This didn’t mean much to me too long ago. Yeosang helped me remember though. I’m sorry.” He looks between the two of them, expression remorseful. “To both of you. It must have been difficult—taking care of me and all that.” He looks down at his own ring. “Mine’s so dirty now.” 

“I can clean it for you,” San offers. 

Yunho shakes his head though, a rueful smile on his face, and Jongho suddenly feels his heart sinking despite the fleetingly cute moment between them. “Don’t worry about it,” Yunho hides his hands behind his back. “I, um, I’m going to stay here.” 

The reaction is instantaneous and chaotic. “ _ What? _ ” Jongho gasps out at the same time San demands, “Why!” 

“I think it’s for the best,” Yunho says firmly but without looking at either of them. “You’ll probably be safer without me around, and I’ve been enough of a burden.” 

“You’re not a burden,” San protests without hesitation, reaching out to grab Yunho by the wrist. His grip is surprisingly strong considering his current state. “It’s not you. It’s because of me. Because I’m not strong enough to feed you, right?” 

Jongho can’t say anything, jaw barely seeming to work. The only thought racing through his mind is  _ this can’t be happening. This can’t be happening _ . He felt like he just got his brother back. San was safe. They could go back and maybe things would be different, but Yunho wanted to stay here? Why? 

“Look at yourself,” Yunho says in a soft voice. San flinches at the command, eyes fixed on his shoes. “It’s too much to ask of you.” Briefly he glances to Jongho who still can’t formulate any of his thoughts into a coherent sentence. “And I wouldn’t ask that of the others. They’d likely refuse anyways.” 

“Yeosang can’t keep three Revenants fed either!” Jongho finally inserts. It’s not really what he wants to say, but it’s the only thing he can manage to get out. 

Yunho shakes his head. “I’m not asking him to. I’ll sustain myself on blood beads. Seonghwa seems to know what he’s doing, so it’s probably my best bet. He’s okay with me staying too, so you don’t have to worry about me.” He tries to smile at the both of them, but his lips quickly drop back into a frown. “I’ll be in good hands.” 

“But…” San’s lips quiver, and he struggles to form words. “W-why?” He finally manages to choke out. 

Sighing, Yunho turns his head away, unable to meet San’s eyes—probably glassy with unshed tears. “These past two years I didn’t realize the strain I was putting on the two of you. I just felt grateful that a couple of humans were willing to stick around and at least try to help me, but I remember, at least, some things now, and I’m not okay with it.” He looks over to Jongho with an apologetic expression. “I’m sorry. To the both of you.” 

“Don’t apologize,” Jongho chokes out because he shouldn’t be sorry. He should be the one apologizing for the way he acted the past couple of years. For forcing San’s hands like this. For getting everyone into this mess. But the apology keeps getting stuck in his throat, and he can’t get it past his lips. 

“In any case, I think it's best for me to stay here.” 

“Didn’t you hear what that Revenant was saying?” Jongho asks, voice hard because this can’t be the way he loses his family. “Blood springs are quickly disappearing. It’s not at all the best for you to stay here. You should stay with us. We can help you.” San eagerly nods his head in agreement to Jongho’s words, tugging insistently on Yunho’s arm.

Yunho smiles wryly at him. “I heard what he said. I understand what he said. Maybe in an ideal world staying with you guys would be the best case scenario, but things aren’t like that anymore. Humans don’t trust Revenants, and it looks like Revenants don’t really trust humans either. I don’t think it’s necessarily better for me to stick with other Revenants, but it’s probably a lot better for you two to stay with other humans. I can’t jeopardize you like that any more.” 

“But—” San begins to protest. 

“Besides,” the Revenant cuts in quickly, “I’m not really looking forward to going back to one of those little cells.” Both humans flinch at that statement, San recoiling away though he keeps his grip on Yunho’s wrist. 

“We can talk to Hongjoong about that,” Jongho suggests, really saying almost anything at this point to convince Yunho not to do this. “We don’t  _ have _ to do that anymore. Not since—” He cuts himself off, feeling it wouldn’t be right to say that it’s now somehow okay with his memories at least partially intact. “Please, don’t do this. You’re my brother. You belong with us.” 

Yunho turns to his brother, a thin smile pulling at his lips. “Let’s be realistic, Jongho. We haven’t even looked at each other as siblings for the past two years.” Jongho’s breath hitches at the accusation, and Yunho at least has the decency to look guilty about voicing that thought aloud no matter how true it may be. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes immediately. “I didn’t mean that as a criticism. I just meant that you’ll be okay without me.” 

San moves his hands down from Yunho’s wrist to intertwine their fingers. “If you’re staying here then so am I,” he stubbornly insists. 

The Revenant shakes his head. “Go back,” he tells him softly, looking to Jongho for help. “You’re safer there.” 

Jongho takes San by his free hand. The elder turns his head to look at him, expression pleading. The younger tightens his grip on his hand. He doesn’t know what to say to convince Yunho. 

  
  
  
  
  


The two humans eventually depart. Reluctantly, but nevertheless they leave—Jongho basically dragging San along with him. When Yunho walks up the steps to the second floor, he halts halfway up because Yeosang is sitting at the top of the stairs, waiting for him. The medic lifts his head as Yunho approaches. “So you decided to stay after all,” he notes. 

Yunho can’t tell by his tone if he's disappointed or not, pressing his lips into a thin line as he observes the human. “Were you listening to us?” he asks.

Yeosang shakes his head because he isn’t rude enough to intrude on their privacy. “Seonghwa told me what you had discussed with him. It’s fair considering I’ll be the only human here, and now there’s three of you to look after.” He rests his elbows on top of his knees, leaning forward. “Are you certain this is the right decision though?” 

“You’ve seen the state San is in because of me. I’m only a detriment to them right now.” 

“Jongho seems to have changed his mind on the issue. Don’t you think so too?” Yeosang points out. 

Frowning, Yunho leans against the railing with his arms crossed over his chest. “I think he’s only saying that because he feels obligated to, and I don’t want to force him to do something he doesn’t want to do.” 

“And San?” the brunette asks. “He did all this because he loves you, you know.” 

“I know,” the Revenant acknowledges. “And now I remember that I love him too. That’s why  _ I’m _ doing this.” 

With a nod, Yeosang pushes himself to his feet. “Alright,” he concedes. “I’m not saying you’re wrong by the way. I just want to make sure this is what you want.” 

“I won’t say that I won’t regret this, but I really do think that what I’m doing is right,” the Revenant admits. “What do you think?” 

Yeosang pauses, expression thoughtful as he thinks about the question. “Why would you ask me?” 

“Because,” Yunho says, turning his gaze away from the medic and fingers twisting together nervously. “In all my time I can remember since I woke up as a Revenant, you’re the only human besides San who has ever gone out of their way to help me.” 

Yeosang stares down at his shoes, toes digging into the worn hardwood floor of the hallway. “Are you mad?” he asks curiously. “At humans. For bringing you back?” 

The Revenant allows a beat of silence to pass before he answers the question. “I don’t know,” he finally answers truthfully. He feels very conflicted about the notion. Seonghwa’s earlier sentiment resonated with him in a way he hadn’t expected nor felt before. 

“Well, if things change, and you do change your mind, I think you still have time to go back.” 

Yunho shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. “We’ll see.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  


Hongjoong is both relieved and stressed when San and Jongho come back. Relieved because San doesn’t look any more worse for wear than usual, but stressed because fewer people come back than he anticipated. He meets the two of them almost as soon as they step into the base they’ve set up as their little home. “Where is Yeosang?” he asks, looking between the two of them. “And the Revenant?” 

San’s jaw clenches at the question, and he shoots Jongho a little glare. The younger man shrinks away from him, turning to face Hongjoong. “They stayed behind,” he answers in a small voice. “In exchange, they’ll...leave us alone.” 

The elder presses his lips together, gaze turning to San who hasn’t said a word. “Are you okay with this?” 

“No,” San says curtly before marching past Hongjoong with a stormy expression. 

The elder side steps him, expression concerned as he watches San walk away. When he’s gone, he turns back to Jongho expectantly. “What happened?” he asks. 

Sighing, Jongho runs his hand through his hair. His head is pounding, and, to be completely honest, he hasn’t exactly gotten over what happened earlier. Yunho had ended the conversation while San was pleading for him to just come back with them. It was enough to lose Yeosang, who Jongho felt he owed more than he could ever make up for, but then Yunho refused to come back with them. His brother had just come back, and Jongho lost him all over again. 

Perhaps that wasn’t quite right though. Yunho had been there all along. Jongho just pretended he wasn’t, content with him hiding away in an underground prison for two years borderline starving him to death. The guilt festers uncomfortably in his stomach. “It was just two Revenants. They...hadn’t really done anything to San other than take him it looked like, but they weren’t willing to let them go. They wanted to...propose a deal of sorts with us.”

“What kind of deal?” Hongjoong asks with a hint of panic in his voice. 

“They wanted blood,” Jongho says. “For now they’re okay, but it sounds like Revenants are becoming more and more desperate. I guess it’d be advantageous for them to secure a source of blood.” 

“Should we be worried about them?” he asks. 

“I,” the younger swallows thickly, thinking about the question for a moment, “don’t think so.” He finishes after a second too long of silence. He’s sure Yunho won’t, and he doesn’t know much about the redhead Revenant, but he thinks of Seonghwa. The blond scared him, but he believed him when he agreed to Yeosang’s deal. He didn’t seem the type to go back on that. Or maybe Jongho just trusts Yeosang a little too much. He wonders when exactly that happened. 

“Yeosang basically offered to trade places with San.” He hesitates to add in the fact that Seonghwa and Yeosang have a history together. Shrugging his shoulders, Jongho says, “he’s a healthier human, compared to San, but under the condition that they’d leave us alone. They took the deal.” 

“And Yunho?” 

Biting down hard on his chapped lips, Jongho struggles to get the words out. “It’s a couple of Revenants. He felt like he belonged there rather than with us.” He didn’t feel welcome here, the younger fails to say. 

Hongjoong furrows his brows at the answer. “What will you do now?” he asks. 

Jongho glances in the direction that San stormed off. It’s unlikely the older man will silently accept this. He has no doubt that San will be stubborn as a bull, so for now he figures he’ll just keep an eye on him. What exactly that entails he isn’t sure though. 

  
  
  
  
  


“What is this?”

Yeosang jumps when fingers trace the back of his choker, whipping around to find Seonghwa behind him. “Don’t,” he says firmly, “do that again. You scared me.” He’d been relaxing in the little lounge area of the lobby, trying to gather his thoughts when the blond snuck up behind him. 

The blond pulls his hands away, cocking his head at Yeosang’s behavior. “What’s there to be afraid of? I promised protection, no?” 

“You just learn to be cautious after a while.” Yeosang defends in a huff. “I’ve had my fair share of fights and,” he glances around to make sure no one else is around to hear him, “no offense, but I’m not entirely sure your redhead friend won’t bite me.” 

Seonghwa barks out a laugh at the notion, hanging himself over the back of the worn couch Yeosang had taken up space on. “Mingi has his troubles. He’s still very much learning about what exactly it means to be a Revenant, but he’s a good kid.” 

Yeosang turns again so his back is facing the Revenant. “I know,” he agrees in a soft voice. “I don’t think you’d be looking out for him otherwise.” His knee bounces anxiously for a moment before he suddenly remembers what Seonghwa even asked him in the first place. His fingers trace along the choker. “It’s nothing really. Just something to hide behind.” 

“Hide?” he questions. 

Most of the time Yeosang forgets he even wears the thing. Admittedly it’s a rather odd accessory, but he doesn’t don it for the style. He traces the band to the back of his neck where a little clasp holds it together and carefully unhooks it. It probably doesn’t matter so much anymore. He pulls the choker from his neck, placing the thick black band on the cushion beside him. Seonghwa doesn’t say anything at first, but the brunette can feel his gaze on his neck. His neck which is littered in old bite marks and scars. Some fairly neat and a few more nasty than the rest. 

“You didn’t have those the last time I saw you,” the blond finally notes. 

“Of course not,” Yeosang snorts, fingers already itching to grab the band again. He isn’t sure why he’s so self conscious about them. Wooyoung also sported quite a few bite marks, all neater than Yeosang’s own, but he seemed to bear them with a degree of pride. The mark of a survivor. “It’s not as if Yunho or the two of you are the first Revenants I’ve come across since the provisional government collapsed. Sometimes they had something I needed, and I had something they needed. We’d trade.” He shrugs his shoulders. “And it’s not as if it’s easy to come across equipment for blood draws.” 

“Some of these look quite vicious, though.” Seonghwa’s fingers touch a particularly nasty looking scar, barely discernible as a bite mark, and Yeosang shies away from the touch. 

“Well, I didn’t always get something out of it.” He swats Seonghwa’s hands away, sliding off the couch to retreat from the Revenant’s touch. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize,” Yeosang says stiffly. “It’s not your fault.” 

“It’s sobering, though,” the Revenant says, eyes still fixed on the wounds littering Yeosang’s neck. Perhaps their number was far greater than the blond would ever anticipate. “I harped on you for the difficulties us Revenants have dealt with since the collapse. I realize that humans are not very well off either, but it never occurred to me…” he trails off. Yeosang rubs at the base of his neck with both hands. They don’t hurt anymore, and he can’t really feel the scars much either. Most of them are quite small, the skin just barely raised, but he knows that they’re there, and that’s enough. “And yet you still offered to help us. And to help your friends.” 

“We’re not friends,” Yeosang denies, and, really, nothing went the way he wanted exactly. Yunho stayed behind, and Yeosang can understand his decision, but part of him bitterly thinks it was all for nothing in that case. “And, like I said, San isn’t in the condition to be useful to you.” 

Seonghwa’s expression softens when he’s reminded of the other human. “I’ve never met someone quite like him before,” he remarks. “He told me that he collected those blood beads for a Revenant. I assume Yunho, right? And yet since I met him, I’ve seen more humans than I have in months. Why would he need blood beads for one Revenant when a large blood supply was readily available.” 

“Their situation is,” Yeosang pauses to think of the right way to describe Yunho’s circumstance, “complicated. I’m not entirely sure it’s my place to say, but I understood San’s desperation.” 

“I guess that’s why I don’t understand myself. That a human would be so desperate to help a Revenant. Yunho must be quite special.” 

“San loves him,” Yeosang explains. 

Seonghwa hums thoughtfully at the statement, tapping a finger against his lips. “Then why choose to stay with us?” 

Yeosang sighs. It’s one of the questions that have been plaguing his mind since last night. 

  
  
  
  
  


Yunho is scrubbing at his ring with a little sponge he’d found in the kitchen area in the lobby. Yeosang watches him work, inspecting the ring with a particular intensity before he starts scrubbing at it again. “Can you get it clean?” he finally asks, approaching Yunho who’s again surveying the ring in the little evening light there is left. 

“For the most part,” the Revenant says with an edge of annoyance in his voice. He holds it in the palm of his hand, and Yeosang can see that while it’s much cleaner than before there are still some marks maring it. “I should have been cleaning it from the start.” 

“It’s not as if you’d have the resources available for you to do that,” the brunette points out. He’d been more or less i solated for the past two years with only the occasional blood bead or blood bag making its way into his cell. 

With a defeated sigh, Yunho rubs the ring into the folds of his shirt, drying it to the best of his ability before slipping it back onto his finger. “Did you need something?” he glances over to Yeosang. 

The brunette leans against the wall, an innocent smile on his face. “No, nothing in particular,” he says. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.” 

“Are you expecting me to be doing poorly?” 

“Of course not.” Yeosang crosses one leg over the other, leaning his weight heavily against the wall. “In fact, I would hope that after everything you’d be feeling okay if not content with being here.” Looking down at the ring on his finger, Yunho knits his brows together. Yeosang can tell he’s struggling with himself, that he wants to say something. “If you want to talk about it, I’ll listen,” he offers. 

The ring feels cold around Yunho’s finger because he’d been washing it up til now. With a sigh, he sets aside the little dish filled with dirty water he’d used to try and clean it. “Everything has felt just a little off for me since my memories started coming back.” 

Yeosang links his fingers together in front of him, tilting his head to indicate that he’s listening. “What do you mean?” He wonders, briefly, if he’d made a mistake with Yunho. Helping Revenant’s regain memories wasn’t always an ideal situation, particularly for the ones who had fought in the war, but that was usually because of the trauma that occurred when they were forced to remember that they were fighting a war. Yeosang rarely witnessed poor results when Revenants recalled their civilian lives. 

“I was the one who agreed to living like that.” Yunho looks over to the brunette. “Did you know that?” 

“San mentioned it,” he confirms. 

“At the time, it felt like my only option. Jongho and San had found some place safe with supplies. There was a blood tree. I thought that if I didn’t accept those terms I might forfeit my best chance for survival, so I did it.” He smiles ruefully. “But now I can only see it in a different light. They let me live like that. For two years. My own brother and San.” His brows furrow as his voice cracks halfway through. 

“Are you mad at them for that?” he asks after a moment of silence. 

“I don’t know,” Yunho answers truthfully. “I don’t know if I’m... _ mad _ at them necessarily. I don’t know if I have the right to be when I’m the one who agreed to the terms. It’s just—I can still remember it all. San was trying to help me, but Jongho seemed like he hated me more and more as time passed.” 

Licking his lips, Yeosang pushes himself from the wall and makes his way towards the Revenant. “It’s easier to treat someone as less than if you’re not exposed to them as often. Jongho’s animosity was probably just his defense mechanism. Your...imprisonment likely amplified those feelings.” When he reaches Yunho’s side he catches the Revenant’s gaze for a brief moment before the tall Revenant looks away. “I’m not saying this to discount your own feelings. I understand where you’re coming from. It was certainly an odd predicament from my perspective as well.” 

“You’ve talked to Jongho,” the Revenant notes. 

It’s not a question but an observation, and Yeosang can’t deny that he’s right, so he nods his head. “I’ve talked to pretty much everyone. Like I said, your situation was odd.” 

“Did he tell you why?” he asks curiously. “Why he hates me so much?” 

“I don’t think hate is the right word for it,” he answers, tentatively taking a seat next to the Revenant. “I think it was a misguided frustration towards you that morphed into more than it should have. He seemed to be frustrated from the end of the war because of your patchy memory, but there was an incident that seemed to have sent him over the edge.” 

“What?”

Yeosang takes a breath before answering. “There was a time where you nearly killed San?” he asks, trying to jog the other’s memory. 

Yunho cups a hand over his mouth, eyes narrowing as he searches his memory. It takes a moment for Yunho to think it through, but Yeosang gives him time. The Revenant suddenly gasps, and the brunette assumes he must have thought of something. “It—it wasn’t long after the war. We were constantly moving around seeking shelter and supplies. I was hungry. There weren’t any blood beads available, and Jongho was out looking for supplies for him and San. I drank from him.” He bites his bottom lip, hands clutching his hair. “I almost killed him then. He went completely limp on me.” 

“And Jongho walked in on that?” 

Yunho nods his head once before dipping it down in shame. “He came in at that moment. He pulled me off and started yelling at me that I couldn’t do that. I don’t know why I did it though. I—” He smacks the palm of his hand against his temple a few times in frustration, groaning in annoyance. 

“Don’t.” Yeosang reaches out to steady his hand, stopping him from abusing his head further. “I know you can ask yourself that now with your memory intact, but you didn’t know. It was a mistake, and, yes, maybe it was serious at the time, but he’s still alive.” 

“I remember now,” Yunho says as if he didn’t even hear Yeosang. “I remember how furious Jongho was with me. I didn’t understand why he was so mad at me at the time but— _ fuck _ . He was just trying to protect San.” 

“There were better ways to do that,” Yeosang points out. 

The Revenant twists his arm from Yeosang’s grip with a thin smile. “You asked me earlier if I was okay. I think that I am now that I’m certain I made the right decision.” 

  
  
  
  
  


Jongho is drawn out into the courtyard because of an intense yelling match. He’s not the only one, though, because he runs into Hongjoong on the way out. Which can only mean that San and Wooyoung are the ones who must be butting heads. The two of them pause to stare at each other, the same thought must cross their mind, because they immediately dart for the sound of the arguing. 

Sure enough Wooyoung and San are in front of the entrance to the base. The blond is holding San by the forearm, pulling at him while the elder is leaning as far back as he can to try and slip out of Wooyoung’s hold. The two are yelling back and forth, but Jongho can’t make out their argument from here though he has a pretty good guess what they might be arguing about. He picks up the pace, running to reach the two of them.

“You’ll put all of us and yourself in danger!” Wooyoung yells. 

“I won’t! And I don’t care if I do!” San screams back. The blond glances at Jongho when the younger approaches, and San pounces on the opportunity. Wooyoung opens his mouth to say something to Jongho, maybe ask him to please talk some sense into San, but instead he screeches in pain because San leans down and bites his hand. In shock, he snatches his hand away, and San immediately takes off. 

“San! Where are you going?” Hongjoong yells after him, but the younger doesn’t even spare a glance behind him. “Wooyoung!” he turns to the blond instead. 

Hissing, Wooyoung inspects the teeth indentations on the back of his hand before he looks up. “He’s crazy!” he snaps. “He said he was going to go see Yunho and those other Revenants again. I tried to stop him but…” he rubs his hand with a wounded expression. “He’s going to get us all killed, Hongjoong.” He spares a glance at Jongho who meets his gaze with narrowed eyes. “Are you really not going to do something about him?” 

Hongjoong hesitates, caught off guard now that he’s suddenly been put on the spot. Jongho hops in for him. “He’s not going to get anyone killed,” the youngest says, eyes flicking between the both of them. “I’ll go after him.” He pushes his way between the two of them before running after San. It’s not hard to figure out where he’s going after all. 

In all honesty, it’s not hard to catch up with San. If Wooyoung really wanted to he probably could have easily caught San and dragged him back. “Sannie,” Jongho calls out as he begins to close distance with the elder. He can see the elder’s shoulders tense up before he visibly pushes himself to run faster. Jongho huffs in annoyance, barely picking up his own pace. He doesn’t really see the need to push his own pace too far because he knows that San can’t keep up his own speed for too long. 

In fact, he only takes a handful a steps at that pace before his legs suddenly give out on him, and he gracelessly collapses to the ground. With a shout of concern, Jongho quickly catches up to him, kneeling down to help the elder up. San shoves him away though, stubbornly standing up on shaky legs. He takes a moment, bent over, hands on his knees, and panting as he tries to work up the strength and coordination to move, but his body won’t listen to him. 

“San!” Jongho chides as he reaches out to steady the older man. “Don’t push yourself. You should still be resting.” He begged San the other day to just stay in bed until he at least recovered for the most part, but he isn’t at all surprised that the elder only listened to him for one day before immediately trying to leave to see Yunho. To be fair, Jongho is mildly surprised he at least rested for that one day. 

“Don’t tell me what to do,” San replies stubbornly, shaking off the younger’s hold on him. “You’re not going to stop me.” He glares at Jongho, trying to look intimidating though the younger finds him far from when he’s bent over himself heaving in gasps of breaths. Neither mention that it would be entirely too easy for Jongho to simply pick him up and carry him back if he wanted to. 

“I’m not trying to stop you,” Jongho tells him. “I’m trying to make sure you’re  _ safe _ . Do you want me to carry you for a bit? Give your legs a rest?” 

San narrows his eyes at the suggestion. “I’m not going back to the camp.” 

“We’ll go see Yunho,” Jongho assures him, holding his hands up in a placating manner. “Promise. But you’ll have to come back by the end of the day.” 

San seems to weigh his options. His legs are still visibly shaking, and he honestly doesn’t think he can move any time soon. He doesn’t even agree before Jongho moves in front of him, bending his knees low enough so that San can climb onto his back. Reluctantly, the elder links his arms around Jongho’s neck, allowing him to hook his hands underneath the elder’s legs and lifting him up. “You promise we’re going to see Yunho?” he asks. 

“As long as you don’t try to stay there again,” Jongho bargains. “It’s not like Yunho will let you, and we’ll worry Hongjoong if we stay out too late.” 

San bites his lip, clamping down on the little rebellious streak the bubbles up inside him and hesitantly agrees to the deal. “Fine,” he says begrudgingly before relaxing into Jongho’s hold as they continue on north. “We should just go,” San suggests after a moment of silence. Jongho hauls the elder up higher when San begins to slip down. “I mean the three of us. We were doing okay before. If Yunho can’t come back, and I can’t stay with him we should just go back to the three of us, don’t you think?” 

Jongho doesn’t answer him right away. He can’t because he isn’t entirely sure how he feels about the suggestion. On the surface, he isn’t necessarily opposed to it. It would probably be harder on all three of them. Yes, they were doing okay for themselves before, but living day by day was certainly not easy. It still isn’t, but the necessities—food and shelter—are a lot more secure than before. He also has his reservations about leaving Hongjoong who really took care of them the past couple of years. Still he can’t deny that losing Yunho didn’t hurt. The fact that his brother so quickly and willingly stayed behind with those other two Revenants  _ hurt _ , and he would probably jump at the chance to stay with his brother again. 

“You don’t have to convince me,” he finally answers. His resolve renewed he would take his family first over anything else. “I think it’s Yunho we’d have to convince.” San tightens his hold around Jongho’s neck, forehead pressed to the back of his neck. He doesn’t say anything in response, but Jongho can tell that he’s grateful. At least the younger is with him. 

  
  
  
  
  


The blond Revenant, Seonghwa, is standing outside of the hotel they’ve taken up residence in when he spots the two humans approaching. The apprehension on his face quickly melts into an expression of relief. “I should have figured,” he mutters when the humans approach. Neither San nor Jongho say anything to him, and he retreats back into his shelter, leaving the door open for the both of them. 

Jongho and San share a look before they slowly climb the front steps and enter. Seonghwa is still waiting for them by the entrance, expression unreadable as he observes the two humans. Finally, he points to the corner of the lobby and says, “Go up one floor. His room is the second to last on the left.” 

San immediately starts to follow the directions, pausing to look back at Jongho. “Go,” the younger tells him. “I’ll give you two some privacy, but then I want to talk to him too.” 

The elder nods his head in agreement. “Okay. I’ll come get you when I’m done?” 

“Sure.” Jongho looks around the lobby. There isn’t much to do, but he figures he can wait until San has some time with his brother. The elder looks at him gratefully before turning to jog over to the staircase. Jongho peers over at Seonghwa who returns his gaze. “Is it okay if I just…” he motions to the worn couch and chairs in the lobby. He doesn’t know what to say. Sit? Make himself at home? 

Seonghwa tips his head in approval. Or is he just giving him permission? Either way, Jongho seems welcome to take a seat so he walks over and settles himself on the couch. “Would you like something to eat or drink?” 

Jongho startles at the question, whipping his head back to look at Seonghwa. The blond looks at him expectantly. Clearing his throat, Jongho answers, “water. Um, water would be nice. Please.” He adds the please as almost an afterthought, flushing at the way the Revenant beams at him, pleased with the little bit of politeness. After carrying San most of the way here Jongho admits he’s quite thirsty. He just hadn’t expected the Revenant to offer anything. 

The blond comes back a moment later, handing Jongho a water bottle and a small package of gummy bears. Jongho stares down at the candy in his hands. He hasn’t seen some for awhile now. What the hell is Seonghwa doing with them? 

“Mingi found them a few weeks ago,” the blond says when he notices Jongho’s confusion. “Human food doesn’t taste like much to us anymore, and it doesn’t sustain us at all. Still, Mingi hasn’t quite seemed to learn that. He brought them back to snack on, but he learned pretty quickly that they weren’t all that enjoyable. I figured they should still be good though.” 

Jongho sets the packet of gummy bears on his lap before cracking open the bottle of water, chugging down half of it before pulling away with a small breath. “What do they taste like to you guys?” he asks curiously, taking small sips of water now that his thirst has mostly been quenched. 

“Just like latexy, rubbery shit.” Seonghwa scrunches his nose up in distaste, and the young human looks down suspiciously at the gummy bears. “They should taste just fine to you though.” 

Jongho has never been much of a fan of sweets, but with them harder to come by nowadays he has to say it is quite tempting. “Thank you,” he says, lifting up the bottle in his hand. 

“No problem. I guess I’m not too surprised to see you guys back again.” The blond leaves him alone after that, wandering off and leaving Jongho by himself on the couch. The younger tears into the gummy bears once he’s gone, popping one into his mouth. They’re a bit harder and chewier than he remembers, but they still taste good. He looks the package over but can’t find the expiration date. 

He’s finished the bottle of water and most of the gummy bears by the time he hears footsteps quickly making their way over to him. When he looks up, one gummy bear to his lips, he sees Yeosang making his way to him. The brunette doesn’t pause, flopping down on the couch next to Jongho with a curious look. “You came back,” he observes. 

Jongho pops the last gummy bear into his mouth, shrugging his shoulders. “Are you surprised?” he asks rhetorically. “San bit Wooyoung and then ran off. I just wanted to make sure he got here without incident.” 

“San  _ bit _ Wooyoung?” Yeosang asks. 

Jongho nods his head, a thin smile on his face because he’s trying to hold in his laughter. “I told him he should be resting, but he only listened for a day. And I’d rather come along with him and make sure he’s okay than, you know? Plus...I wanted to talk to Yunho too.” 

Yeosang rubs his fingers against his temples, eyes sliding shut like he’s in pain. “That kid never listens,” he grumbles to himself. 

Jongho watches the older man for a second. It’s true that he wanted to talk to Yunho, but he’d also wanted to talk to Yeosang again. He’s glad the other human came down to see him. His eyes are quickly drawn to his neck—now bare of the choker he remembers the medic wearing all the time. A series of small bite marks and little scars run down both sides of his neck, and his eyes immediately zero in on a fresh set of bite marks. He clamps down on the surge of anger that soars through his gut, reminding himself that Yeosang volunteered for this, and that Seonghwa didn’t seem so awful. 

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out, tearing his gaze away from the brunette’s neck to look down at the space between their bodies. 

The elder looks up at that, head cocked to the side. “What are you apologizing for?” 

Jongho shrugs, crinkling up the empty candy wrapper in his fist. “Everything?” he suggests because he is. Originally the apology had come out because of, well,  _ this _ . This situation he felt he had forced the medic into. He was sorry for the fact that he would essentially be a blood bag for a Revenant from now on even if Yeosang seemed okay with it, and Seonghwa seemed nice enough because it’s not as if he wanted it. Jongho knew that at least. 

Once he’d put the apology out there, though, he realized he was sorry for so much more than just that. He was sorry for the way they’d first met—the whole kidnapping him and dragging him back to their base thing. He was sorry for the general attitude and affect he had towards the medic when he’d only been trying to help. Mostly, he was sorry for not listening to Yeosang in the first place. He can’t help that gut feeling that if he’d just not been so difficult maybe none of this would have happened. 

He says as much to the elder who crosses his arms and sinks back into the couch. After a moment, he responds, “I accept your apology, but you don’t have to be sorry for all those things. Not everything was your fault.” 

“It was though.” Jongho folds his hands on top of his lap, shoulders hunched, looking for all the world like a child being scolded by his parents. “You were right about Yunho. And San. There was no reason for Yunho to be going hungry, and, if we had been taking care of him—if  _ I _ had been taking care of him like I should—San wouldn’t have gone and done something so reckless. Then we wouldn’t be here.” 

Yeosang shakes his head. “San shouldn’t have done something so reckless anyways.” 

“Still, I’m sorry. I know this isn’t what you wanted to do.” 

“No, but I’m a grown man, and I can make my own decisions.” Yeosang shakes his head, lips quirked up in a small smile. Jongho can’t meet his expression though, the shame still weighing heavy on his heart. “You know, you’ve changed a lot.” The younger finally glances over to Yeosang, eyebrows knit together in confusion. Yeosang covers his mouth when he laughs at Jongho’s expression. “I’ll be honest. I didn’t like you at first.” 

Jongho flushes at his words, embarrassed but not necessarily surprised by the admission. He hadn’t really liked Yeosang either, or at least he didn’t trust him, so he’s not shocked that Yeosang returned the sentiment. “Fair enough,” he concedes, turning his gaze back onto his lap. 

“You’ve become a lot better since your brother—” he pauses. 

“Got his memories back?” Jongho suggests. He supposes that’s when he started looking at Yunho differently. 

“I mean, yeah, but I don’t think it’s necessarily because of that. I think it was just being able to see him again.” 

Jongho thinks about his brother’s words from the other day about not really wanting to go back to living in one of those cells. He lived those two years adjacent to him, yet it only now seems to occur to him exactly the type of living situation Yunho endured for  _ years _ without protest. He can taste the bile in the back of his throat. “Maybe,” he croaks out. 

Yeosang reaches out to nudge him on the shoulder. “You know, Yunho is doing this because he loves you. Both of you. He’s just trying to protect you guys.”

Jongho hangs his head. “I know,” he acknowledges. He knew that’s what Yunho is doing, trying to do, but that doesn’t make it any less painful. “Anyways, I wanted to let you know that I was sorry. For everything. And to thank you for everything you’ve done for us. You didn’t have to.” 

“No, I didn’t,” Yeosang agrees. “But I don’t regret it. If that makes you feel any better.” 

Jongho sags a little in relief because, yeah, it does. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


Yunho isn’t really shocked when San barges into his little room, but he is a bit disappointed to see him only two days later. He’s actually shocked when Jongho comes into his room afterwards, leaning against the door when he closes it. “Hey,” the younger greets. 

“Hey,” Yunho returns. 

“Are you and San good?” Jongho asks. 

“We’re—” Yunho hesitates before sighing. Good is not the term he would use to describe their situation, but it’s certainly not bad either. “We’re working things out.” They talked about a lot today, but there’s still more to talk about. “I’m not mad at him—or you, for that matter.” If anything San had seemed the one who was irritated by the end of their talk. Yunho had been reticent about the idea of the three of them leaving, and San hadn’t been too pleased with him about that. He doesn’t say that though, unsure of his brother’s opinion on the matter. 

Jongho feels a weight lift off his shoulders at the statement, and he shuffles a little deeper into the room. “I would have thought that everything would be better between you guys after you remembered, but I guess that was wishful thinking on my part.” Yunho shifts his weight and awkwardly averts his gaze. Jongho quickly backtracks, “Ah, that wasn’t sarcastic. I swear. I just—I really did hope for that, but I’m learning that I’m probably being naive. Things aren’t so simple anymore.” 

“They haven’t been for awhile,” Yunho agrees in a strained voice. The two brothers share a short look before quickly looking away from each other. It’s about as awkward as Jongho expects, and he hates that it is. 

“You’re not mad at him, are you? San, I mean.” 

The Revenant startles at the question, glancing at his younger brother in surprise. “I—no. Never.” 

Jongho places his hands on the bed frame at the end of the mattress and leans on it. “I told him he should rest. Get his strength back first. I knew he’d do something like this, but I hoped he’d at least take it easy for a few days before he tried.” 

Yunho’s expression softens, and he looks almost fond for a moment. “Yeah, it sounds like something he would do.” 

“Wooyoung tried to stop him, so San actually bit him. It was pretty funny.” 

“Wooyoung…” Yunho says the name with uncertainty, brows furrowed in confusion. “Which one is he?” 

Jongho takes a step back in surprise, forgetting that the name probably meant nothing to Yunho. “Oh. He’s, uh, the one who tried to kill you once.” 

Recognition flashes in Yunho’s eyes. “Ah, yes. Him. His name is Wooyoung?” Jongho nods his head curtly, staring down at his feet. “He’s stronger than he looks.” Yeah, that’s one hell of an understatement. 

“Yunho,” Jongho croaks the name out before immediately clearing his throat. He hasn’t referred to the elder by name for a while, and it shows. His brother stares at him, eyebrows raised in surprise as well. Jongho hesitates under his gaze. There’s so much he wants to say, that he needs to address, but he doesn’t even know where to begin, so he starts with the easiest—San. “I know that what you’re doing is trying to protect us, and I understand. I do,” he insists earnestly because the last thing he wants to do is antagonize Yunho for his decisions. “I just—please, don’t forget what San has been doing for the past couple of years. He gave up a lot to keep you safe as well. To stay with you.” 

The elder brother tips his head in acknowledgement. “I know,” he whispers. “I remember those two years perfectly.” 

Jongho winces at the words, but he tells himself that he can’t back down. Not yet. “I’m simply asking that...I won’t tell you that you should come back with us. I probably don’t have that right, but, please, just consider San’s feelings too. I know you’re not doing this to hurt him, and maybe you are right that we’re safer with Hongjoong, but it might not be necessarily what he needs right now.” 

Yunho turns his gaze out to the window of his room, leaning against the windowsill. “More than his emotional needs, he should be thinking about his survival.” The elder turns to pin Jongho with a sharp gaze. “As should you,” he reminds. 

“We can survive with you,” Jongho protests. “We’ve done it before, and survival also means staying safe, not running off into the open so he can visit his boyfriend.” 

“Yes,” Yunho agrees, “which is why I’ll be expecting you to rein him in from now on.” 

The younger’s jaw slackens at the request, not because he’s angry or upset by the request, but because exactly how much control and influence does Yunho think he has over San? “You’re asking for too much,” he protests. 

“I’m not,” Yunho adamantly denies with a little shake of his head. “That time I was staying with you, before my memories returned, I could never really get a good hold on you to be honest. When I remembered I was admittedly bitter.” Jongho bites his lip and tries not to let the stabbing pain in his heart get to him. Whatever Yunho’s feelings on the matter, he probably deserves it. He’s been far from fair to his brother. “But I thought about it. I won’t say I understand or that I’m not upset about the way you behaved, but it was how you protected yourself and San, right?” 

Jongho crosses one arm over his stomach, grabbing onto his elbow. He doesn’t meet his brother’s gaze. He can’t. Is that the reason? Maybe. The truth is simply that it was easier. It was easier to treat Yunho as an inconvenience than hurt over his brother who he felt was lost a long time ago.    


“I know you’ve been trying to protect San in my place. That’s why you’re here, right? All I ask is that you continue to do that.” 

“I didn’t just come here because of that,” Jongho objects. Alright, it was a part of it, but Jongho probably would have come here on his own eventually if he had to. Both of Yunho’s brows raise at his statement, surprised. Taking a deep breath, Jongho leans forward to grip the bed frame again, knuckles turning white from the pressure. “I’m really sorry,” he apologizes in a quiet voice. He shakes his head at himself. That’s not enough, so he lifts his head up to meet his brother’s gaze. “I want to apologize to you,” he says in a hoarse voice. “For the way I’ve treated you. You have every right to be upset with me. I’ve been selfish.” He repeats the words Yeosang told him once. 

He’s been selfish. That, he can agree with now. 

In comparison to San who did everything in his power to help, Jongho just kept running away from it, hoped by some miracle that something would work out. “I could have...I should have done more for you. And San.” Yeosang was right. Helping Yunho would have helped San by extension, but he wouldn’t even do that for the elder. “I’m sorry. I really am. I don’t know why I was behaving like that.” 

Finally, Yunho moves from his spot, making his way towards his younger brother. When he’s only a few feet away, he stiffly wraps his arms around Jongho. The younger’s shoulders tense up at the touch though he allows himself to be pulled into the embrace. It’s a very awkward display of affection all things considered. They’re both incredibly rigid and unyielding, and Jongho contemplates pulling away. He hesitates—beginning to pull back—before he abruptly changes his mind, instead leaning forward to rest his forehead against his brother’s shoulder, arms wrapping around his waist. 

It seems to do the trick. Both of them relax into the embrace, and it feels a lot more natural. “Just because I’m upset with you doesn’t mean I don’t love you,” Yunho whispers against his temple. Jongho’s lips tremble, and a pressure builds behind his eyes when they start to tear up. 

“I’m sorry,” Jongho apologizes again. 

“I know.” Yunho tightens his grip around his little brother, holding him close to his chest. “Just give me some time.” 

  
  
  
  
  


This continues for a series of days. San wakes up at an inordinately early time before sneaking into Jongho’s room to wake him up too. They leave before anyone else can wake up and, therefore, attempt to stop them to make the long trek to the abandoned town. It’s probably not a great idea, it’s probably quite dangerous, but Jongho has a hard time saying no to San now, feeling like he owes the elder his support. Plus he can’t really deny that he enjoys seeing his brother and Yeosang more frequently. 

Begrudgingly he also admits that maybe Seonghwa isn’t so bad. He doesn’t like Mingi much though it’s not necessarily because he’s a Revenant. Still, he remains wary of the two of them, really only feeling comfortable enough to be around them if Yunho or Yeosang are present. 

“Is this wise?” Yeosang asks him one day. 

Jongho eyes the medic warily, mostly because Seonghwa is hanging nearby, one armed draped around the brunette’s shoulders. San had disappeared off to Yunho’s room almost immediately while Jongho stayed behind in the lobby to give them some privacy. He ends up spending most of his time with Yeosang because of this. The other human always coming down to keep him company. 

“I don’t know,” the younger answers in a small voice.  _ It probably isn’t _ , he thinks though he’s not quite ready to voice that opinion aloud. 

“It’s okay,” Seonghwa answers for him. One of his fingers stroke at the base of Yeosang’s neck, and Jongho can’t help but zero in on the motion. The blond grins at him. Jongho scowls. “Yunho’s been meeting them halfway, and Mingi’s still been patrolling the area for me. No signs of any threats.” 

“It’s not necessarily that,” Yeosang argues, turning his head the slightest bit to look at Seonghwa. Jongho’s jaw clenches. “San isn’t exactly in great shape.” 

“Sure, but he’s seemed much better than before,” the blond points out correctly. San, while maybe not fully recovered, has been looking much better over the last few days. Jongho’s been working on it. 

“I’m taking care of him,” the youngest affirms through clenched teeth. That smug little grin remains on Seonghwa’s face. Jongho hates how much it annoys him. “I’m going to go find Mingi,” he says suddenly, turning on his heels to head for the staircase. It’s completely and utterly random, coming from Jongho’s mouth, but what else is he going to say? 

Yeosang also seems caught off guard by his declaration, watching as Jongho leaves. “What? Why?” 

_ Because _ , Jongho thinks through gritted teeth and clenched fists,  _ he’s the only one not acting grossly affectionate with someone _ . He pointedly ignores the fact that San’s affection doesn’t bother him at all, rationalizing that of course it wouldn’t because it’s directed at his brother. 

Seonghwa leans down to press his mouth against Yeosang’s shoulder, stifling his laughter. The brunette shakes his off, pulling away from the blond with a frown. “What?” he demands, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Stop laughing.” 

The Revenant hides his giggle behind his fist. “Sorry,” he says once he catches his breath. “That kid is too cute.” 

Yeosang quirks one eyebrow up at the statement, glancing over to the staircase Jongho disappeared up just a second ago. “Jongho?” he asks for clarification. 

“Yeah.” The blond gives him a smile like he knows something that the human doesn’t. Yeosang frowns. He doesn’t like that expression, especially on Seonghwa of all people. “He really likes you, huh?” he asks the brunette. 

Yeosang blinks at the question because this is news to him. “He what?” 

“You can’t tell me you didn’t just see that,” Seonghwa motions to where Jongho disappeared to. He’s not really sure the human is actually trying to find Mingi or if he’ll more likely find refuge with his brother, but his abrupt departure was hilarious either way. “Poor kid was so jealous.” Yeosang crosses his arms over his chest, the skepticism clear in his expression. “What?” Seonghwa finally seems to get his amusement under control. “You seriously didn’t notice? Was this not a thing previously?” 

Yeosang frowns at his questions, eyes once again trailing over to where Jongho had disappeared to. Was this a thing previously? He shakes his head. No, definitely not. “We didn’t exactly get along,” the brunette tells the Revenant. He refrains from saying that they still don’t because he isn’t quite sure where they stand on the matter. Jongho isn’t nearly as frustrating to deal with now, but he isn’t exactly sure he would say they get along well now either. Certainly they’re on better terms now than before—thanks in no small part to Jongho’s apology—but Yeosang still isn’t quite sure what he would classify them as. Friends? Acquaintances? 

“Oh?” Seonghwa’s smile only widens at the information. “So this is a recent development then?” 

Yeosang doesn’t know what  _ this _ is. “Leave him alone,” he finally tells the Revenant. “Don’t antagonize him. He’s not fun to deal with when he’s angry.” Seonghwa holds his hands up in surrender.    
  
  
  


“And what about when the blood spring dries out?” San mumbles into Yunho’s chest. The Revenant sighs, tucking San’s head under his chin. It’s been like this nearly every day now, and Yunho can absolutely feel the tension and anxiety radiating off of the human. 

“It’s not something that we should worry about for awhile,” Yunho assures him. 

San turns his head just the slightest bit and his dry, chapped lips press against the Revenant’s collarbone. Yunho shivers at the feeling, pressing his cheek into San’s hair. “But it’s something to think about eventually, right?” 

“Why are you so worried about it?” 

San presses his face harder into Yunho’s chest. “I don’t want you to leave me,” he whimpers, fingers clawing into the elder’s shirt. “Don’t leave me.” 

“San—” The Revenant cuts himself off when the younger man sniffles, eyes sliding shut in defeat. This hasn’t been easy. Yunho isn’t exactly thrilled with the distance, though he’s also equally as horrified by San’s almost daily visits, strained by the fact that San seems constantly worried about the future while Yunho remains worried about the present. The human has been looking better in recent days, but he still just seems too thin to be quite healthy. Yunho worries for him. However, San seems much more preoccupied with the issue of blood beads running thin. Two days ago, he offered to let the Revenant feed on him which Yunho had promptly and emphatically refused. 

“ _ Please _ ,” the human pleads desperately. “They took you from me when you passed, and I never saw you once during the war. They wouldn’t let me be your Donor. Then I finally got you back. Please, I already hate this enough.” 

“I’m sorry,” Yunho apologizes in a quiet voice. “I know I just got some of my memories back—” 

“I don’t care about your memories,” San vehemently denies before fidgeting and pulling back enough to peer up at Yunho. “I mean, I do. I want you to have them back, but that doesn’t  _ mean _ that you’re any less important with them missing. Even if you didn’t know who I was this past few years, even if they were hard, I was happy because you were  _ there _ .” 

The Revenant scrunches his nose at the statement, shaking his head in disbelief. “You couldn’t have been that happy,” he looks San over, expression laced with concern. “You were dying.” 

San puffs his lips in something between a pout and a scowl. The elder finds the expression unfairly cute, and he resists the urge to coo at him. Now is not the time. “I’m not saying things were perfect,” the human protests, “I’m just saying that it was better for me than before.” 

Yunho hums because he doesn’t know how else to respond to the human. He doesn’t necessarily understand, probably will never understand, but that doesn’t mean he wants to invalidate San’s feelings either. The human tugs at the back of his shirt, evidently unimpressed with his response. Yunho presses their foreheads together, but San isn’t having any of it. The human pulls back, hands moving up and over to Yunho’s shoulders to push the Revenant away as well. 

“I’m serious,” San says, searching Yunho’s expression with uncertainty. “Will you look me in the eye and tell me that you won’t leave when the blood spring dries up.” 

The Revenant parts his lips but no words come out. He feels San’s fingers dig into his shoulders, and he winces in pain. “I don’t know,” he finally answers in a hoarse voice. It’s true enough. He doesn’t really know because he just hasn’t thought about it much yet. Seonghwa seems confident that the blood spring will still last them quite a few months, so Yunho just hasn’t thought that far ahead yet. 

“Don’t,” San insists again, shaking the Revenant by his shoulders. “Jongho—” he cuts himself off after saying the youngest’s name because he’s unsure if he should include him. In the last few days Jongho has been uncharacteristically accommodating for San. He knows that the younger boy has been looking out for him, always has been, but that seemed to manifest in telling San what  _ not _ to do to keep him safe. He’s sure just a few weeks ago, Jongho would be sitting in front of his room to stop him from doing this. Now, while he’s not exactly actively encouraging San, he lets him do what he wants, following along to make sure he isn’t getting himself in trouble. He shakes his head, feeling like it’s okay to include Jongho. “We’ll feed you. Me—and Jongho.” 

Yunho doesn’t look as convinced, hands falling away from San’s waist to plant them on the bed so he can lean back. “I don’t want that though,” he impresses on the human. “That’s why I’m staying here, San. I don’t want to feed on you. Either of you. I want to subsist on blood beads.” 

The expression on San’s face clearly indicates that he doesn’t understand. “But why? Blood beads are a finite resource.” 

“Humans aren’t necessarily different—” 

“Not for  _ you _ ,” San interrupts him, voice pitching towards a shriek. Quickly, he settles himself back down, relaxing his grip on Yunho’s shoulders when he realizes that he’s been digging his nails harshly into the skin. 

“I’d rather take the chance.” 

“You’ll frenzy,” San whispers. 

Sighing, Yunho hangs his head. Realistically, he knows San is probably right. Living off of blood beads might be ideal, but it’s no guarantee that he’ll be satiated. Even so, he stubbornly refuses to give into the human. “I believe in Seonghwa. I think he knows what he’s doing.” San presses his lips into a thin line. This isn’t going anywhere. It’s like the same argument they have every time they see each other. “Jongho has been through enough,” Yunho argues when San’s gaze hardens. 

“You don’t remember that,” the human accuses. 

“But I  _ know _ . I know that he was a Donor, and I know what that must have been like.” He meets San’s hard gaze with his own pleading one. “And I definitely remember what you’ve done. I can still  _ see _ the result of that, San.” His eyes travel down the length of the human’s body to make a point.

“I’m  _ fine _ ,” San insists. 

“You’re not!” 

“Things will be different from now on!” he insists. “And—” A thought suddenly occurs to him. Yunho eyes him warily, wondering what will come out of the younger’s mouth this time. “What if we could revive the blood tree?” he asks. 

Yunho frowns at the suggestion. “That’s impossible,” he answers after a short pause. 

“What if it’s not though?” San presses. “It would be a better source of blood beads. It would last longer.” 

“It’s dead,” the Revenant reminds him softly. 

“Seonghwa knows how to revive dead springs, so he probably knows how to revive a dead tree too,” San responds confidently. He doesn’t mention the fact that he doesn’t exactly know how the process is supposed to work, or that Seonghwa might just be pulling his leg because right now he wants to believe that it’s true. Yunho quirks an eyebrow at his statement. “It’s true,” he insists emphatically. “Ask him about it.” 

Yunho tucks the suggestion to the back of his mind. He doesn’t know if what San says is true, but he also doesn’t know where the human would pull the idea from if he hadn’t somehow overheard it. In any case, it’s something to think about. 

  
  
  
  
  


Jongho nearly jumps out of his skin when a water bottle is shoved in his face, jerking up from his lying down position with his heart pounding against his ribcage. He quickly spots Yeosang standing beside him, and he clutches his shirt as he takes a deep breath. “Sorry,” he apologizes when he calms himself down. 

“It’s fine,” Yeosang assures him, offering up the water bottle again. Jongho tentatively accepts it, swinging his legs off the edge of the couch so he’s sitting up right. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, head hanging between his legs. “You look tired,” the brunette observes. 

Jongho lifts his head up to squint at the medic. “I haven’t been sleeping well,” he admits. The dark circles under his eyes are prevalent, Yeosang notes. He motions towards the couch silently asking if he can take a seat beside him. Jongho scoots over in response, and Yeosang carefully sets himself down on the edge of the couch maintaining a polite distance between the two of them. 

“Is everything okay?” he asks. 

Jongho twirls the water bottle around in his hand, lips set in a little pout as he thinks. “Yeah, things are okay,” he eventually answers slowly. “It’s just—” There are still a lot of uncertainties about the future. Jongho can’t help but worry about it. 

“Is it Yunho?” Yeosang guesses. 

The younger smiles thinly at his question. “That obvious, huh?” 

The elder grins at him, knocking their shoulders together playfully. “I mean, why else would you guys be coming here all the time?” 

Jongho’s knee bounces up and down uncontrollably, a nervous tic. He places his hand on top of his knee to calm himself down. “San isn’t happy with the current situation,” he says once he has his knee mostly under control. “I understand both of their sides, but it’s stressful. I can’t sleep because I can’t stop trying to think of something that will make everyone happy.” 

“And what about you?” Yeosang asks. 

“Huh?” 

“What do you want?” 

Jongho barks out a short mirthless laugh at the question, and he sinks into the couch with a little self-deprecating smile on his lips. “What I want is impossible, so it doesn’t matter.”

Yeosang mirrors his posture, turning on his side so he’s facing the younger and leaning back into the back of the couch. “Humor me,” he requests. 

Meticulously, Jongho peels off the label of the water bottle. Then he drops the bottle beside him, fingers beginning to play with the label. “I mean, if it were possible I’d like to go back in time and just not be such a dick to everyone. My brother, San,” he hesitates, sneaking a glance at the medic, “you.” 

“I do suppose that is impossible,” Yeosang agrees. 

“I told you.” 

“What about something more attainable?” the brunette suggests, reaching out to snatch the label from Jongho’s hands. The crinkling of the label grates on his ears, and he doesn’t want to allow Jongho any excuses or distractions. He motions to the water next to the younger’s lap. “You should drink.” With a sigh, Jongho picks up the abandoned water bottle, cracking it open to take a small sip. Yeosang observes him quietly while the younger continues to take the tiniest of sips. It dawns on him then. “You’re hiding something,” the brunette says. 

Jongho pauses, lip of the bottle on his bottom lip as he turns his gaze over to the medic. “I’m not hiding anything,” the younger denies. He sounds genuine, but Yeosang can’t help but feel like something is still off. 

“No.” Yeosang cups his chin. “You were like this before. When you told me about the incident between your brother and San. There’s something else.” The younger’s jawline tenses. Yeosang knows he got him. 

“I want my family back,” Jongho says suddenly, trying to change the topic to answer the medics previous question. He pushes himself off of the couch, abandoning the water between the cushions, to create some distance between himself and Yeosang. “I mean, like, everyone.” He looks pointedly at the brunette, his implication lying in stark contrast to the obvious distance he just built between them. 

Yeosang hums thoughtfully, staying put on the couch. “You think of me as family?” he asks, a little shocked at the idea.

“I owe you a lot,” Jongho points out. “And...I like you. You’re not so bad once I got to know you.” 

“That’s not much of your forte, though, huh?” Yeosang teases. “Getting to know someone, I mean.” 

“Don’t mock me,” Jongho snaps at him. 

“I’m not.” The brunette blinks at the glare Jongho sends his way. “What?” 

The younger glances around the lobby for a brief moment, checking to see if anyone is around. There aren’t. Seonghwa had left to check their surroundings, and Mingi had gone to collect some blood beads from the spring. Yunho was squirreled away in his room with San as well. It was just the two of them here. “You were involved in making the Revenants,” Jongho says, a complete 180 from their previous conversation. Yeosang stares at him with his eyebrows knitted together. He nods his head once in confirmation. “Did they turn anybody who died into one?” 

He shakes his head. “No, not in the beginning at least. Once the war with the Queen started...I guess I can’t say because I wasn’t involved.” Yeosang turns over and sits up on his knees, draping his arms over the back of the couch as he stares at Jongho. “But, guessing by the sheer number of second and third generation Revenants they created I wouldn’t be shocked if that's what they resorted to. The parasite isn’t particularly difficult to get to reproduce. It would, logistically, be entirely possible.” Jongho doesn’t respond, just listens intently to the medic. It’s off putting. “Why do you ask?” 

It’s quiet for a long moment. Jongho hovers by the exit as if he might make a break for it at any moment. Yeosang doesn’t think that he would, not without San at least, but his body language is alarming. One of the stairs creaks under the pressure of someone’s weight at the same time Jongho announces, “I almost died.” 

Yeosang’s gaze immediately tears away from the stairs over to the younger man, lips parting in shock. “Excuse me?” he asks, convinced he misheard. The creak from the stairs stops as well, and Yeosang wonders if Jongho even heard. 

“I’m not saying this for pity,” Jongho tells him, fists clenched at his sides. Then in a whisper, he repeats, “I’m not.” 

No one says anything for a long moment. Jongho doesn’t elaborate on his statement, Yeosang doesn’t press—honestly he’s not even sure if he  _ believes _ him—and whoever is on the staircase remains frozen too. “Nevermind,” Jongho finally mumbles, turning to flee out the door. 

“Wait.” Yeosang quickly scrambles off the couch. “What are you talking about?” 

Jongho pauses, glancing over his shoulder towards the stairs. The medic frowns. So he did notice after all. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he repeats, opening one of the double doors. “Tell San I’ll wait for him outside,” and he slips out the door. 

Yeosang sighs as he stares at the door. He feels like he’s missed something important. 

  
  
  
  
  


Hongjoong wakes with a startle, momentarily disoriented as his frazzled brain tries to piece together why he woke with such a start. It takes a few seconds of his eyes roaming around his room before it hits him: San. Jongho. Without wasting another second, he throws his thin blanket off of him and rolls out of bed. His mind suddenly feels awake and alert, but his knees nearly collapse under his weight because his body is evidently not as awake yet. 

Still he manages to keep himself upright, quickly rushing through his door and down the hallway to San’s room. He throws open the door without bothering to knock first. His heart is pounding with adrenaline, but it quickly sinks when he finds the room empty. The blankets are strewn across the bed like San had gotten up in a hurry, but the younger man is nowhere to be seen. 

He backs out of the room quietly, shutting the door behind him, before crossing the hallway to Jongho’s room. Although he has a pretty good idea of what he’ll find, he still opens the door anyway. Sure enough, Jongho’s room is just as empty, though the bed is at least made. 

Hongjoong bites his bottom lip at the sight. He doesn’t know what to do with the two of them. Every day it feels the same, it’s rare that Jongho and San are even around during the day anymore, and he worries every night that they won’t come back ever. Their absence is also starting to irritate Wooyoung who is becoming increasingly nervous and hostile. 

Nervously, he wrings the hem of his shirt in his hands. His last conversation with Yeosang keeps replaying in his mind. 

_ “I’d like to talk to you.”  _

_ Hongjoong waits until the others leave before turning his attention to the medic. “What is it?”  _

_ The corners of Yeosang’s mouth twitch into a sad little smile before his expression falls flat. “I’ve felt this since the day I got here: this group is on its last legs.” Unnerved, Hongjoong bristles at the assessment, but he doesn’t say anything. The words stuck in his throat. “Groups have a tendency to collapse from internal strife—that’s what happened to the provisional government after all. I thought it was because of the Revenant, and it is, but it’s so much more than that.”  _

_ “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he denies, refuses to see it.  _

_ “You know exactly what I’m talking about.” Yeosang glances in the direction the other three disappeared to. “Whether you want to believe it or not, you’re the de facto leader of this group, but you’re being too indecisive. If getting rid of Yunho takes care of the problem, you need to do it. If it doesn’t, you need to find a solution that will keep everyone in line. The others listen to you. You’ve basically been acting as Jongho’s surrogate brother.”  _

_ “They don’t—”  _

_ “They do,” Yeosang cuts in before the elder can try and deny it. “They do because they’re not ready to lead either. I understand your mentality. Humans can be at their strongest in numbers, but if you’re not careful they’re going to kill each other.” _

_ “What’s your point?” Hongjoong finally asks, his tone harsh.  _

_ Yeosang frowns at him, hands settling on his hips. “I’m giving you some last bit of advice,” he says. “I won’t say that I’ll be returning here after today. You provide the necessities—I’ll certainly give you that—but I’m a survivor, Hongjoong. First and foremost. And I’m not going to put myself at risk in the crossfire between you guys and Yunho.” His posture relaxes somewhat at the alarmed expression on Hongjoong’s faces, pleased that his words are getting to him. “You might not have asked for this, but if you want to keep this, what you have, you need to step up and make the difficult decisions for them. That’s what being a leader means.”  _

_ The brunette pats Hongjoong on the shoulder sympathetically as he walks past him. That’s all he really wanted to say. “I didn’t ask for this,” Hongjoong spits at him.  _

_ “I never said you did,” Yeosang responds without missing a beat. “I’ll I’m saying is that this,” he motions to the cells around him, “is not the solution to your problem. It’s just a delay. Jongho has already offered you a solution” Hongjoong bites his lips as he recalls what Yeosang is referring to. Jongho did offer a solution. Kill Yunho. “But he can’t make that decision. He needs you to. You’ll have to act at some point.”  _

Wooyoung comes up behind him, startling him. “They’re gone again, aren’t they?” the blond asks. 

Hongjoong turns around to face him, expression guilty because he couldn’t stop them. “Yeah,” he confirms, closing Jongho’s door behind him. 

“I don’t like this,” Wooyoung says, crossing his arms over his chest. Hongjoong knows. The blond has been repeating the same sentiment for days now. His tension is starting to make Hongjoong anxious too.

“I know.” Reluctantly, he loosens his grip around the door knob before pulling himself back. “I’ll do something about it,” he says resolutely, determined to follow through with his promise. 

“I hope so,” Wooyoung mutters before walking off. 

  
  
  
  
  


It’s always one step forward, two steps back. Yeosang finds this saying particularly relatable when it comes to Jongho. The younger is now posting himself outside of the modest little inn rather than staying inside. The brunette finds the whole thing incredibly annoying because when it finally felt like he had a grip on Jongho, the younger slipped away from him again. 

Yeosang slips outside the front door to find Jongho settled in a shady spot on the front steps of the inn. He’s tracing random patterns into his thigh and doesn’t look up when the elder comes out. “You don’t want to come inside?” he asks, walking up to the younger. He doesn’t sit next to the younger, waiting to see if Jongho will take him up on his offer. 

Finally, the younger lifts his head up to look at him. Yeosang quirks a brow at him, silently prompting him for an answer. His gaze slides over to the door behind him. “I’m okay,” he answers, turning his attention back to his leg, picking at the material of his pants instead. 

With a sigh, Yeosang walks down one step and then lowers himself to sit beside the younger man. “Okay,” he says. Jongho presses his lips together, turning his shoulders slightly as if to box the brunette out. There’s an elephant in the room, so to speak, and Yeosang figures that the younger won’t bring it up on his own. “Listen, Jongho,” he starts a bit awkwardly, eyes dropping down to watch his hand. “About what you said the other day…”

The younger tenses up before he even finishes his sentence. “I lied,” he says, interrupting the elder. Yeosang holds his tongue at the response, staring at the younger with wide eyes. Jongho takes a deep breath when he doesn’t say anything. “I lied the other day. Sorry.” 

Yeosang’s lips pull down into a frown at his words. He speaks the words mechanically with little inflection in his voice. “You lied?” he asks skeptically. 

“Yeah.” Jongho wraps his arms around his knees and adamantly refuses to meet the elder’s gaze. “I lied about what I said. I was just…” he trails off, unsure what excuse to give. “Anyways, it was a lie, so just forget about it.” 

Yeosang mimics his posture, resting his cheek against his knee as he stares at the younger curiously. “You’ve never told San or Yunho that, have you?” he asks, ignoring Jongho’s previous statement. 

“No,” the younger denies. “Because it was a lie. Why would I tell them?” 

“Well, why would you tell me?” Yeosang points out. 

Jongho sighs. “I was looking for pity points,” he answers. 

The brunette doesn’t believe him. Not one bit. He doesn’t think Jongho’s the type of person to lie about that kind of thing for pity. However, evidently no one knew about this. Yunho had pulled him aside to ask about what he’d overheard, but Yeosang knew about as much as he did. He can only assume San felt the same. He supposes it’s possible that it’s made up, but his gut tells him that Jongho didn’t lie. 

“You told Hongjoong,” he guesses. He doesn’t really have any basis for thinking that other than the fact that he knows Jongho looked up to the elder, so maybe…Jongho’s fingers dig into his knees, and Yeosang’s eyes narrow in on the action. “What did you tell him?” 

“Nothing.” Jongho insistently keeps up with his lie. 

“You’d say I’m like your family, but you won’t tell me what happened?” Yeosang probes. 

Jongho lips pucker into a sour expression, and his gaze is sharp when he directs it at the brunette. “Don’t use my words against me,” he complains. To be fair, he seems to have kept this a secret from his actual family too, but that doesn’t stop Yeosang from using it to his advantage. “And no, I won’t because there’s nothing to tell.”

“You told Hongjoong,” Yeosang points out, almost laughing at the scowl on Jongho’s face. 

“Listen,” the younger grits out, “don’t take this the wrong way. I meant what I said, but I just don’t trust you enough to tell you anything.” 

A pang of hurt and annoyance tugs at his heart. Yeosang can’t explain why he feels that way exactly. Jongho doesn’t owe him his trust though he admittedly feels like perhaps he had earned it after everything he’s done for him. Perhaps that’s why he feels so slighted. “You don’t trust me?” he asks, horrified that he sounds more annoyed than he wanted to. 

“I trust you,” Jongho amends. “But you don’t trust me, so it’s not something I can talk about.” 

Yeosang opens his mouth to protest because when had he ever said something like that? But before he can, the door suddenly slams open, and he jerks around in surprise. Mingi is standing at the door, a smile on his face and a package held up to his chest. “Jongho!” he boisterously calls for the youngest, his smile fading when he spots Yeosang beside him. He gazes back and forth between the two of them. “I’ve interrupted something, haven’t I?” he asks in a surprising moment of self-awareness. 

“No,” Jongho answers for them, looking at Yeosang before turning his attention to the redhead. “I’m just trying to soak up the sun a little, and Yeosang came to join me. Did you want something?” 

Mingi perks up as he remembers why he came. “Oh, right.” Without preamble, he wiggles himself between Yeosang and Jongho, essentially creating a buffer between the two of them. Yeosang frowns as he scoots away from the redhead, jaw clenched in annoyance. Mingi doesn’t even take note of him, his body turns towards Jongho who sends the brunette an odd look. “Seonghwa said you liked these, so I went and found some more.” He hands over the package he’d been holding to Jongho, and Yeosang can see now that it’s a bag of gummy bears. 

“That has no nutritional value at all,” the medic complains. 

Mingi shoots him an odd look. “Uh, duh. I know. It’s just supposed to be a little treat, and you don’t have much of a sweet tooth.”

Yeosang chews on the inside of his cheek when Jongho accepts the bag of gummy bears from the Revenant with a small “thank you.” Mingi beams at the young human. The brunette realizes that whatever annoyance he feels borderlines a little too close to jealousy, but he rationalizes that it's concern over Jongho’s health. “Since when were you two good friends?” he asks in what he thinks is a controlled way. From the scared expression on the Revenant’s face and Jongho’s quirked eyebrow, he clearly did an awful job. 

“We hang out,” Jongho answers, looking up to the redhead as if seeking his approval. It’s true. Sometimes the only one really available to keep Jongho company is Mingi, and while their initial few meetings may have been awkward and stilted, Jongho finds that the redhead is fairly easy to get along with. Truthfully, he occasionally forgets that Mingi is even a Revenant; he just seems so human to Jongho. 

Mingi nods, draping one arm around the young human’s shoulders. “Yeah,” he says proudly, jerking his thumb towards himself. “We’re best friends.” Jongho stifles a laugh but doesn’t say anything. Best friends might be a bit of a stretch, but Jongho thinks that the way Yeosang’s lips curl up in distaste is worth it, so he allows it to slide. 

Yeosang stretches his legs out, sour expression still on his face as Mingi returns his attention to badgering Jongho. The youngest doesn’t seem to mind either which only embitters Yeosang further. He doesn’t know why. Maybe because he, once again, feels as if he’s missed something. That’s what he tells him when he glances over at Jongho choking on a laugh at something Mingi says.    
  
  
  


Hongjoong pulls Jongho aside when they return that evening. “I want to talk to the two of you regarding the Revenants,” he says in a low voice. 

Jongho licks his lips nervously. He figured this would be the eventual result of their constant absence, but he can’t say he knows what to expect. Will Hongjoong forbid them from going? It probably wouldn’t stop San, so maybe he’ll just kick them out instead? “Okay,” he replies slowly, hoping Hongjong can’t feel the tremors traveling through his body. 

With a curt nod, Hongjoong relaxes his grip around the younger’s wrist, leading them to San’s room. He looks up when the two of them enter and is immediately on guard, taking one step back. Hongjoong holds up his hands in a gesture of peace before guiding Jongho over to the bed with one hand between his shoulder blades. The youngest sits on the edge of the bed; San soon follows after him. 

Hongjoong leans against the wall on the opposite side of the room, eyeing the two of them with narrowed eyes. San reaches out to take hold of Jongho’s hand, clutching on to the younger tightly. “There’s three Revenants, including Yunho, yes?” the eldest begins. 

Jongho squeezes San’s hand back. Neither of them are expecting this question, so they don’t know what to make of it. “Yeah,” San confirms, struggling to meet Hongjoong’s gaze. “Three Revenants and Yeosang.” 

“And the other two Revenants,” Hongjoong clears his throat, “how are they? They haven’t—haven’t tried to hurt you yet or anything, have they?” 

The two share a look at the question before shaking their heads. “No,” Jongho answers for the both of them. “They’re...I won’t say that I’m necessarily close to them, but they’re not bad. They seem normal? I guess.” 

Hongjoong links his fingers together and stares down at the floor thoughtfully. “They haven’t tried to feed from you?” he asks in a strained voice. Jongho vigorously shakes his head while San mimics him in a sulkier way. Hongjoong sighs in relief. “And Yeosang? How many are feeding off of him?” 

“Just one,” Jongho answers, fingers scratching along the material of his pants. 

“Yunho won’t feed off a human,” San adds in a grumble. “He insists on eating only blood beads.” 

“And Min—the other isn’t allowed to,” Jongho finishes. “So he also only eats blood beads.” 

Hongjoong seems surprised by his answer. “Why not?” he asks. 

They’re both quiet for a second, lips pressing into thin lines. “Bad table manners,” San finally blurts out without meeting Hongjoong’s gaze. It’s the way Seonghwa always opts to describe it. However, Hongjoong pales at San’s words, visibly gulping. 

“Alright,” he says after a long pause. He looks up at the two of them. “I need you to tell me everything about them, okay?” Jongho nods his head in agreement. San hesitates, though, biting down on his bottom lip. The eldest notices, and turns his attention to him. “San,” he addresses the other, “we need to sort this out, but to do that I need to know everything that you know.” 

Sucking in a breath, San reluctantly nods his head in agreement. 

  
  
  
  
  


Hongjoong forbids them from leaving the camp the next day while he thinks about the information they gave him and comes to a decision. Jongho listens to him easily enough. San is, predictably, harder to convince, and Wooyoung greets him with a grin at his door when he tries to sneak out. 

“Dare you to bite me again,” he taunts San. The two get into a small scuffle that ends when Wooyoung manages to pin San to his bed by sitting on him. 

Hongjoong mulls over his options for the whole day, a little bit of a weight lifted off of his shoulders when he knows San and Jongho won’t be running off on him. This whole situation has stressed him out and stretched him thin. Wooyoung’s paranoia is starting to reach an all time high. He’s never quite certain if Jongho and San will come back each evening. All this leaves Hongjoong feeling drained most days, so he finally listens to Yeosang’s last bit of advice to him. 

This is an important decision. One that apparently no one wants to make because they all have differing opinions on the topic, some more extreme than others. Hongjoong worries about whether or not he’s making the right decision when he asks everyone to meet him in the old medical bay the next day. The atmosphere is tense between the four of them. San, in particular, looks ready to bolt at any minute, perhaps only held back by Jongho’s grip on his arm. 

“I won’t let this situation tear us apart,” Hongjoong tells them, arms hidden behind his back nervously. “So, it’s time we finally dealt with the issue. Revenants are a very real threat that we’ll have to deal with sooner or later.” Everyone tenses at the mention of Revenants, and Hongjoong himself grimaces. He never thought he’d be the one to come to a decision regarding the issue of Revenants, but Yeosang is right. Hongjoong can see it. This fragile house of cards he’s built, ready to crumble at any moment, and he’s desperate to keep it standing. He looks at each of them, pausing to give Wooyoung a particularly long and pointed look. “So, that’s what we’re doing. Right now.”

Finally, he moves his hands from behind his back, and holds up a small little bag. “The specifics will likely need to be run by Yeosang, if everything works well, but this is my condition for now. One bag of blood, twice a month, from everybody.” Wooyoung’s jaw drops while Jongho furrows his eyebrows together in concern. San looks at the eldest like he’s seen a ghost. 

“What?” the blond finally manages to spit out, eyes narrowing in on the blood bag he’s holding.

“That’s my stipulation for being here,” Hongjoong elaborates, setting the bag down on the counter beside him. “You want to stay here? This is the new requirement.” 

“There aren’t even any Revenants here,” Wooyoung points out through gritted teeth. 

“Not yet,” Hongjoong amends. San gasps at his words, covering his mouth with his hands. Hongjoong spares him a brief glance before returning his attention to Wooyoung. “It’s twice a week and will be done clinically. No biting. And,” he meets San easily, “there may be a way to lessen the frequency, but that’s my decision. If you don’t like it, you can leave.” 

Wooyoung sputters at a complete loss of words. Jongho quivers as he stares down at the blood bag—the same one Yeosang used for San—and he takes a deep breath to calm himself. He doesn’t voice any sort of protest even when Wooyoung turns to him for help. “I don’t understand what you’re even talking about,” the blond finally says when nobody else speaks. “You promised I’d be safe here!”

Hongjoong releases a shaky breath. “I did,” he affirms. “That’s why I’m telling you now, so you can make an informed decision.” His gaze moves over to San with a remorseful expression. “I promised everyone the same thing, but I realize I haven’t exactly kept my word.” Jongho hears San’s breath hitch next to him, and he wonders what the older man is thinking.

Wooyoung shakes his head, still in a state of disbelief. “This can’t—I’m not—” he looks at the three of them gathered in the room like he doesn’t know who they are. “I need to think,” he finally says before bolting. Hongjoong doesn’t stop him. 

San takes a step forward towards Hongjoong after Wooyoung leaves. “I don’t blame you,” he blurts out to the eldest. “I never did. Honestly I—” he stops when Hongjoong places his hands on his shoulders. His eyes are shiny and wet, expression confused. “I never meant to cause any trouble. What are you doing?” 

“You didn’t cause the trouble,” Hongjoong assures him. “You’ve made a lot of questionable decisions as of late, but it would hardly be fair of me to blame you for everything. This isn’t your fault. It’s mine for letting it get to this point.” 

“But I still don’t understand. What are you trying to do?” San asks. 

Hongjoong helps the younger onto the little exam table Yeosang used to make him sit on when he starts to worry the lithe boy will collapse. “I’m not entirely sure,” he admits once San is settled down. “But I know I’m trying to fix things. I meant what I said to you back then. That you would be safe here, so let me try to keep that promise.” Jongho takes one of San’s hand in both of his own, squeezing it comfortingly. He knows what San is doing because he’s too scared to get his hopes up. 

“But San,” Hongjoong addresses him with a serious look on his face. The younger swallows but tilts his head to indicate that he’s listening. “I want you to stay here until we get this sorted out, okay? Once things have been decided you can also choose to do what you want, but I want you to just rest until then. Are we clear?” His expression sours somewhat at Hongjoong’s words, but he nods his head without much protest. 

With a little sigh of relief, Hongjoong’s hands slide from San’s shoulders as he turns his attention to Jongho. “If it is alright with you, would you come with me to sort this whole mess out?” he asks the younger. 

Jongho pushes his shoulders back as he stands up straight as if trying to imitate a soldier being addressed by his commanding officer. He looks stiff, nervous, but Hongjoong can’t really blame him. “Yes,” he answers. “When...when do you want to go?” 

Hongjoong frowns at the question. The honest answer is never. He doesn’t really want to meet with Revenants under any circumstance, and if he could put this off indefinitely he would. He has. But he can’t do that anymore. “Tomorrow,” he says, swallowing down the nervous lump in his throat as he says that. Jongho nods his head in understanding, and the eldest wipes his sweaty palms against his pants as he suddenly realizes how real this is. 

Tomorrow. Tomorrow will probably make or break them all. 

  
  
  
  
  


“Are you really okay with this?” Hongjoong asks Jongho even though this is all really his idea. 

The youngest must feel the same because he shoots him a weird look. “This is your decision,” he reminds Hongjoong. “If I was against it, like you said, I’m welcome to leave.” 

“But you haven’t,” Hongjoong points out. The road they’re traveling down has long since decayed, cracks and potholes litter the once paved road, and Hongjoong has tripped over a number of cracks by now. He knows generally where he’s going. Jongho is there to guide him to the specific destination, and as a sort of emotional crutch for the elder. 

“Which means I’m okay with it, no?” 

Hongjoong gasps when the toe of his shoe catches another crack, and he nearly tumbles to the ground because he’d been watching Jongho suspiciously. Arms swinging wildly, he manages to catch his balance, hurrying his pace to catch up with the younger man. “I mean, I figured because your brother might come back. I meant...about the blood draws.” 

Jongho’s fists clench at his side, but, other than that, he gives no other reaction to Hongjoong’s words. “I don’t necessarily like the idea,” he begins slowly as they reach the small town Yunho has taken refuge in. “But I understand that it’s necessary if we want this to work. And...if Yeosang comes back, I at least trust him to do it.” 

“Do you think this will work?” Hongjoong asks. 

“Will what work?” Jongho jerks at the question while Hongjoong actually shrieks, tripping over himself and crashing into the younger’s side as they both turn to face the newcomer. Jongho quickly scowls as he helps Hongjoong right himself because Seonghwa is grinning at the both of them, clearly pleased with himself. 

“Seonghwa,” Jongho growls at him. 

“Jongho,” the blond purrs back. “It’s good to see you again. Yunho and Yeosang were getting worried because you guys weren’t coming back.” His gaze slides over to Hongjoong, and his grin widens. “And who’s this? You’re a new face.” He leans in close to inspect the new human. Hongjoong takes a step away from him right as Jongho steps forward and shoves the blond back. 

“Seriously!” The youngest huffs in annoyance. “Do you not understand the concept of personal space?” 

Seonghwa sputters. “I’m just trying to be polite,” he defends. 

“You’re trying to scare him because you think it’s funny.” Seonghwa tries to stifle a laugh at the accusation, but it still comes through and the youngest points an accusing finger at him. “See?” 

“Alright, I apologize.” The Revenant holds his hands up in surrender. 

“What are you even doing all the way out here?” Jongho asks. He hadn’t expected anyone to intercept them on the way except for maybe Mingi. Mingi would do that if only out of excitement for something to do. 

Seonghwa’s expression turns a little more grim at his question. “Just checking the area. I honestly worried perhaps something might have happened because you and San disappeared. I just wanted to make sure everything was good around here.” 

“Is it?” Hongjoong asks in a small voice. 

The blond shrugs his shoulders. “I caught a Revenant snooping around yesterday, had to chase him off. I was checking to make sure he wasn’t back. You guys haven’t had any run-ins, have you?” 

The humans exchange a look with each other. “Not with a Revenant, no,” Hongjoong answers for them. 

“That’s good.” The blond places his hands on his hips, giving the new human a once over before turning his attention to Jongho. “Why the distance then? Yunho’s been worried.” His lips curl into a little grin again. The same one Jongho is quickly growing to hate. “Yeosang has been unusually sulky as well.” 

“San is fine,” Jongho tells him, choosing to ignore his second comment. “We had some things to sort out between us, and he still needs to rest.” 

“Such a delicate little thing. I do hope he gets better,” Seonghwa remarks, cupping his cheeks with his hands. “Now then, shall we address the elephant in the room?” he asks, pinning Hongjoong with his gaze. “Who’s this?” 

“This is—” 

Hongjoong steps forward, holding his head up despite the instinct to cower before the Revenant. He musters up his old military training, trying to channel that into his body language.  _ Don’t let your status as a Donor hinder you _ , he tells himself. “I’m Hongjoong,” he introduces, fighting the urge to flinch when the Revenant hums, leaning in closer again. “I’m...in charge? So to speak. And I’d like to talk to you.” Jongho and San had both stated that Seonghwa was essentially in charge of the Revenants, and while Hongjoong can vaguely remember seeing the blond from a distance he’s not entirely what he expects either. 

The Revenant raises one eyebrow at the request. “You speak for the humans?” he asks skeptically. 

“Um, yes…” 

“He does,” Jongho responds more assertively. 

Seonghwa pulls away from Hongjoong’s personal space with a frown. “Very well,” he finally says after a tense moment of silence. “Let’s go somewhere more comfortable, and I’ll listen to what you have to say.” 

  
  
  
  
  


Yeosang is, admittedly, so relieved to see Jongho again that he almost completely misses Hongjoong’s presence, pulling the younger into a hug when Seonghwa returns with him in tow. It isn’t until Seonghwa is addressing the human to talk that the brunette realizes that San isn’t the one who Jongho accompanied this time. Hongjoong anxiously sinks down into the couch across from the seat Seonghwa has posted himself on. Mingi, unsure of where to go, eventually slinks over to the blonds side, and Seonghwa pats the back of his hand reassuringly. Yunho makes his way over to Jongho. He doesn’t even have to ask the question before Jongho is answering for him. 

“San is fine,” he assures his brother when Yunho is close enough. “We had things to discuss. The four of us. And he’s just resting for now.” 

“What’s going on?” Yeosang asks quietly into his ear. 

Jongho turns his head to face him, cheeks flushing when he realizes how close they are. Before he can answer, Hongjoong speaks for him, “I’ve been told you’re looking for humans. For blood.” Yunho turns a sharp gaze to his brother, and Yeosang digs his fingers into his shoulders. 

Seonghwa crosses one leg over the other, expression betraying nothing. “How intriguing. Are you offering yourself to me or something?” 

“No,” Hongjoong scowls. 

“Then what do you want?” 

Hongjoong chews on the inside of his cheek. The blond is as frustrating to deal with as Jongho had warned him. He’s not uncivil by any means, but Hongjoong can’t quite get a read on him either. He doesn’t know what to make of him. “What do I want? You’ve taken two of ours. I just want everyone to be safe.” 

Seonghwa lifts his gaze up, and Jongho almost thinks the blond is looking at him before he realizes that the Revenant is actually looking at Yeosang. His eyes light up with a glint when the realization hits him. “You’d consider Yunho one of yours?” he asks gleefully. 

Hongjoong digs his nails into his knees. “Yes,” he answers after a short pause. 

“Interesting.” Seonghwa links his fingers together and observes Hongjoong critically. “And you’d like them back in exchange for blood?” 

“I was under the impression that you were seeking a deal from us,” the human mutters under his breath, annoyed by Seonghwa’s blaise attitude. 

“ _ I  _ was under the impression that we’d never reach an agreement.” Seonghwa’s lips curl up into a smile. “Are you saying we can?” 

“Potentially.” Hongjoong leans forward and rests his elbows on his thighs. “We have the materials and the...expertise to collect blood.” 

Seonghwa hums, cupping his chin thoughtfully as he thinks about Hongjoong’s proposition. “It’s tempting,” he says after a moment, eyes looking over Hongjoong’s head towards Yunho who tenses under the blond’s gaze. “Unfortunately, one of us is a...vegetarian of sorts. We’ll require more than just human blood.” 

“We have a blood tree.” 

“I’ve been told that your blood tree has since dried up,” Seonghwa points out. 

“And I’ve been told that you know how to revive one,” Hongjoong retorts. 

“What?” Yeosang gasps out while Seonghwa scowls at the words. 

Sighing, the blond leans his head back and pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “That little rascal,” he bemoans, “he’s told everyone he knows, hasn’t he?” 

Mingi smiles apologetically at the blond. “I’m sorry.” Seonghwa waves him off. 

“You know how to revive a blood tree?” Yeosang demands stepping forward to stand behind Hongjoong. “You didn’t tell me?” 

“It’s not something I can just do when I feel like it,” Seonghwa defends himself. “It can be done but only on a limited basis, choosing a smart time to use it could be the difference between life and death.” 

“How do you do it?” Yeosang demands. 

Seonghwa presses his lips into a thin line, eyes darting between Hongjoong, who finally seems to relax now that he thinks he has the upper hand, and Yeosang who looks furious with him. “The Queen’s blood,” he answers, and realization dawns in Yeosang’s eyes. The rest of them seem confused by his statement. 

“Her blood?” Jongho finally asks. 

“The blood springs and trees appeared because of her,” Seonghwa explains. “After she frenzied, some people on the research team found that her blood could purify and revive dead blood springs. That’s why many of the camps were set up around one, but after the war most of the supply was lost, and not many knew about it to begin with.” 

“You have her blood?” Hongjoong asks, a little shocked and disgusted by the notion. 

“Just a small bit from my time in the army,” Seonghwa replies. “I’ve been hesitant to use it.” 

“Is it enough to revive a blood tree?” Yunho asks, speaking for the first time since he came downstairs. 

The blond spares him a brief glance, tapping his finger against the armrest of the chair he’s sat himself in. “I think so,” he answers. Yunho turns to look at his brother, and Jongho feels his stomach flutter in something like hope. 

“So do we meet your requirements or not?” Hongjoong asks the blond. 

Sighing, Seonghwa twirls a strand of blond hair around a finger, expression pensive. “I’m not sold,” he says leveling the humans with a hard stare, “but, if you truly are willing to extend an offer, then I’m not opposed to working something out.” 

“You’ve met San.” Hongjoong smiles at the Revenant. “We’re not opposed to working something out.” 

“San certainly not.” Seonghwa eyes Hongjoong with a degree of suspicion before turning his attention to the youngest human. “Jongho is at least partial to his brother.” 

“Me too!” Mingi interjects, pounding his chest proudly with his fist. “We’re best friends, right?” He looks expectantly at Jongho who hesitates before nodding his head in agreement. Mingi positively beams as he wraps his arms around Seonghwa’s neck. 

Crossing his arms over his chest, Seonghwa sucks in a breath and looks over at Hongjoong. “Why?” he asks the human. “Why now? Why so suddenly?” 

“Suddenly?” Hongjoong asks like he can’t understand where Seonghwa got the idea from. “As I said before, you have two of our own. Why, you ask, because I want them back safely.” 

Seonghwa raises one brow at his insistence. “You’d consider a Revenant one of your own?” he asks skeptically. “That seems to run contradictory to what I’ve heard.” 

Hongjoong looks over his shoulder to Yunho. Their gazes meet for the first time in a long while, and Hongjoong wonders what the Revenant is thinking. Does he resent Hongjoong? Does he blame him for San’s current condition? Is he angry that Hongjoong is even here attempting to negotiate for him? The human wouldn’t blame him for any of that. “Maybe I haven’t done the best job of showing it, but he is. Him being a Revenant just means I have to….get used to it.” 

Seonghwa looks up at Yunho, but the other Revenant doesn’t give him any sign that he agrees or disagrees with the human. He tilts his head back to look up at Mingi. The redhead smiles down at him. Neither are really much of a help at the moment. “I’d like to discuss the proposition with  _ my _ people, if you don’t mind,” he finally says, looking to Hongjoong. 

The human nods his head. “I understand,” he answers, pushing himself up onto shaky legs. Part of him is shocked that he’s spent this amount of time surrounded by three Revenants and has yet to be bitten, but he keeps the thought to himself. “To the south of here, about 10 miles or so, there’s an old military base.” His heart pounds against his ribcage as he extends the information to the Revenant. “That’s where you’ll find us.” 

“Smart,” Seonghwa remarks to himself. “We will let you know.” 

  
  
  
  


Yunho finds San by the blood tree unsurprisingly. Seonghwa had used what little of the Queen’s blood he had left to revive it, but it was a slow process. Blood beads were just beginning to bloom from its branches, and San had been watching over it like a hawk. “The beads are finally blooming,” the younger says, looking over his shoulder to Yunho. 

“You worry too much,” the Revenant says, stopping beside him. 

“Can you blame me?” San scoffs, hugging himself. The silver ring rests on his finger now, still loose enough that it’s not a comfortable fit, but San feels secure in the knowledge that it won’t fall off. “Without this you—” His fingers dig into his ribs. San had been the one to practically drag Seonghwa to the blood tree when the blond came to accept Hongjoong’s proposal with a few additions of his own. The young human barely waited for Hongjoong to agree before he was hauling the Revenant towards the tree.

“Fix it,” he demanded, pointing at the decrepit and decayed tree. 

“It’s not exactly a miracle cure—” 

“Fix. It.” 

Seonghwa quickly figured that fighting San on the notion would be pointless. As promised, he revitalized the tree. Its white, almost ethereal glow, had returned immediately. The blood beads took longer though. “It needs time to heal before it produces blood beads again, but it should have a normal life span after that,” Seonghwa had explained when San started panicking about the lack of any beads. 

“Meaning?” the human prompted. 

“Meaning that between this,” he pointed to the tree, “and the five of you,” he motioned to San, “we’ll be set for years.” 

Yunho curls one hand over the back of San’s neck, pulling the human in closer at the same time that he leans down to press his forehead against San’s temple. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes to the human.

“For what?” San mutters, eyes fixated on the smooth, white bark of the blood tree. 

“For making things difficult on you.” He presses his lips against San’s skin, a small gesture of affection. “I wasn’t trying to make things hard for you. I just wanted—” 

“I know what you wanted,” San interrupts him. His arms drop to his side as he leans into the Revenant’s touch. It’s been a few years since San has been traveling with Yunho, but it’s felt like an eternity since he’s really had the elder back. Like this. “This is what I’d hoped for, you know. This is why I wanted to stay here. Because it was one place where I didn’t have to worry so much about you frenzying. It almost feels like it’s worked out too perfectly.” 

“Don’t forget what was happening just a couple months ago,” Yunho reminds him with a rueful little smile. Things hadn’t been perfect. They still weren’t perfect now to be honest. Wooyoung had agreed to Hongjoong’s terms in order to stay but basically acted as a ghost of some sort. Yeosang seemed to be the only one who saw him on a regular basis now for his blood draws. He wasn’t openly hostile, at least, but San had no idea where he hid himself. Jongho and Yunho were also still not on the greatest terms though they seemed to be working through it, particularly at San’s behest. 

Speaking of, the younger turns to face the Revenant. “Did Jongho ever talk to you?” he asks. “About what we overheard that time?” 

Yunho frowns, playing with the little baby hairs on the nape of the human’s neck. “No,” he answers with a little shake of his head. “I tried asking him, but he said he didn’t know what I was talking about. He doesn’t want to talk about it.” 

“Are you guys okay?” 

This time Yunho smiles. His hand moves from San’s neck to his cheek, cupping it in his palm. “Yeah,” he answers with more confidence. “He’s not the same person he was when I was locked up. I can feel how he’s changed.” 

“Good.” San places his hand over Yunho’s nuzzling into the touch. “God, I missed you so much.” 

Yunho pulls the human closer to him. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs an apology. “For leaving you alone this whole time.” 

San turns his head, pressing a small kiss into the palm of his hand. “It’s okay,” he murmurs into the Revenant’s hand. Fingers curling around Yunho’s hand, he pulls it away from his face, looking down at the silver ring on his finger. He plays with the band, twisting it around the Revenant’s fingers. “Just don’t do it again,” he finally adds. 

“I won’t,” Yunho promises. San holds him to it. 

  
  
  
  
  


Jongho, Yeosang learns, is deathly afraid of needles. The first time he comes into the medical wing to get his blood drawn, he’s visibly pale. The brunette attempts to make small talk as he ties his makeshift tourniquet around the younger’s bicep and while he’s searching for a vein to puncture. Jongho isn’t having any of it, only responding to yes or no questions and turning his head away when Yeosang prepares to puncture his skin with the needle. He winces ever so slightly at the initial prick of pain, but remains tense throughout the whole process, even when Yeosang is done. 

He doesn’t look at any of the materials, hopping off the exam table as soon as his bandage is on and rushing out of the room. Yeosang can only stare at his back as he retreats. It isn’t as though he feels judgemental about Jongho’s fears, but he certainly hadn’t expected it either. When he comes in for the second time a few weeks later, he’s still tense, still refuses to even look at the needle, but he seems to be brushing it off by making small talk instead. Yeosang indulges him if only to make the experience more comfortable. Jongho had been a Donor during the war with the Queen, the brunette can’t exactly blame him for being nervous. 

“So, are you and Seonghwa, like, a thing?” he asks, and that catches Yeosang’s attention. His gaze snaps up to the younger man who shrinks away from him. “Or, like, were you a thing at one point?” His eyes seemed fixated on Yeosang’s shoulders, and it occurs to the medic that he’s staring at his neck. At the bite marks. Instinctively, he reaches up to cover the marks before he catches himself. What does he have to hide anyways? 

“Why do you ask?” he shoots back as he wraps the tourniquet around Jongho’s arm. 

“I don’t know.” The younger shrugs, looking away when Yeosang rips open the package of the needle. “You guys seem close. He’s very touchy with you.”

“He’s just like that,” Yeosang points out fairly. Seonghwa is equally, if not more, touchy with Mingi, and, lately, much of the attention he used to pay to Yeosang seems to have been redirected to Hongjoong and San. “His family was lost in the Great Collapse. I think he just does that to people he likes.” Jongho huffs at Yeosang’s assessment, and the brunette peers down at the younger man. “Are you jealous?” the elder asks. 

“No,” Jongho responds a little too quickly, turning back around to glare at the brunette. He looks down at his arm where Yeosang is feeling for a vein. The color drains from his face, and he quickly turns his head away again. 

“What happened?” Yeosang asks, pulling away from Jongho. 

“Huh?” 

“You said you almost died once,” the brunette reminds him. “And you were asking about Revenants. Were you worried you would become one?” 

Jongho blinks at him, lips slightly parted in shock. “I mean—at the time, no. I thought it would be like a second chance almost.” He looks down at his arm, relaxing when he realizes that Yeosang doesn’t seem ready to stick him with a needle any time soon. “But, I don’t think that way anymore. Seeing my brother and Seonghwa and Mingi, I think I’m lucky I’ve managed to survive up until this point. Being a Revenant seems hard.” 

“Are you going to tell Yunho about it?” Yeosang prods. 

“About what?” 

“The whole ‘almost dying’ thing?” He crosses his arms over his chest. “He’s your brother, and he’s been worried about it.” He doesn’t beat around the fact that Yunho overheard him that time. They both know it’s the case. 

Jongho nervously tugs at the tourniquet with his free hand, laughing nervously. “What are you talking about? I already told you that I lied before about that.” 

“And I’m sure you can tell that I know that’s a lie.” Yeosang moves to grab the needle, pausing when Jongho tenses up at the action. It’s not as if a fear of needles is wholly bizarre, plenty of people have an innate fear of them. Hongjoong also seems skittish around the needles whenever it’s his turn, but, truthfully, Yeosang can’t help but find Jongho’s behavior bizarre. He can’t quite put his finger on why though. 

“Are you scared of needles?” he asks. 

“Oh, uh,” Jongho forcefully relaxes his shoulders at the question. “No, not really.” 

Yeosang eyes him skeptically. Normally he’d brush it off as a lie because that’s probably what it is, but something about the way Jongho says it and Yeosang’s own doubts keeps him from writing it off as such. It dawns on him when he finally starts to collect blood. 

San. 

Jongho has been present during some of San’s blood draws, not lately, but before. Yeosang can distinctly remember now that Jongho had been standing by the door of the medical ward the first time the brunette had met San. He’d watched the whole process, but he’d never expressed any sort of fear at the time. Of course, he wasn’t facing the needle at the time, but Yeosang has long since learned that a fear of needles doesn’t stop at just one’s self. 

“You’re scared of having your blood taken, aren’t you?” he asks almost as soon as the thought occurs to him. He covers his mouth with a small gasp, horrified by his own behavior. He could have been more tactful about it by evidence of the way Jongho’s gaze snaps up to him. When it does, though, he catches sight of the blood bag in his periphery. Morbid curiosity must take over because he eventually focuses his gaze on the blood. Yeosang watches as the younger’s eyes dilate, his breaths picking up, and then he jerks, shying away from the sight. 

Of course, in the process he manages to accidentally pull the needle from his arm, releasing a pained whimper at the sensation. Yeosang yelps, immediately moving into action. He sets aside the now bloody equipment aside, quickly snatching up a clean towel to press against Jongho’s wound, wiping up the little bit of blood gathering on the surface, before he covers it with a small bandage. 

“Sorry,” Jongho asks, staring resolutely down at the bandage. “You weren’t done.” 

Yeosang shakes his head, quickly cleaning up the used items before moving the blood bag out of Jongho’s sight. “No, we were almost done anyways, so this is fine. And it’s my fault. I’m sorry. It was rude of me to ask like that.” He turns to face the younger man. He wants confirmation that he’s right even though it’s pretty obvious by Jongho’s reaction that he’s right, but he holds his tongue. He’d already been rude once, best not to immediately ask something insensitive again. 

“Is it weird for a former Donor to have a fear of having their blood taken?” 

Yeosang takes a step closer to the younger man, fingers fiddling with each other as he fights the urge to reach out and touch the younger. “I’m...not sure,” he answers. He’s not really encountered anyone who had such a fear to begin with. The needles, sure, but the actual act of drawing blood? “I know the conditions for Donors could sometimes be pretty bad,” he says in a soft voice. He gives in, reaching out to undo his little makeshift tourniquet from his arm. “Did—did something happen during your time as a Donor?” 

Jongho’s lips quiver, looking down at his wrist. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and Yeosang wonders if he’ll answer him at all or avoid it as usual. But then he peeks up at Yeosang, “Don’t tell Yunho.” 

“Why not?” the brunette asks. 

“Because I don’t want him to know.” Jongho slides off the exam table. “Promise me,” he says, “promise me, and I’ll tell you.” 

Yeosang rests his weight on one leg. “I’m not so curious that I’ll force you to tell me.” 

Jongho shakes his head. “I was going to tell you. I just don’t want you to tell my brother.” 

Taking a step back, the brunette leans back against the counter behind him, hands coming up to rest on the countertop. “I won’t,” Yeosang promises, “but whatever it is, I think you should tell him at some point.” 

The corners of Jongho’s mouth pull up into a small smile. “That sounds like something you’d say,” he remarks. 

“It sounds like it’s important,” Yeosang replies. 

The smile falls as Jongho looks away. “It’s not,” he says, eyes catching sight of the blood tree outside. He sees Mingi by the tree, the redhead reaching up on his tiptoes to pluck a blood bead from one of his branches. The redhead glances around as he grabs a bead, catching Jongho’s gaze through the window. With a grin on his face, the Revenant waves at him, blood bead in hand, and Jongho snorts into his hand. His mood suddenly uplifted. 

Yeosang clears his throat to draw the younger’s attention back to him, lips curled up in annoyance. “You and Mingi certainly seem close,” he remarks once he regains the younger’s attention. 

“Yeah. He’s cool. I like him.” 

There’s another question on the tip of Yeosang’s tongue that he should probably hold on to, but it comes forth before he can really convince himself to keep his mouth shut. “What about me?” he asks before immediately smacking his hand over his mouth. 

Jongho raises a brow at the question. “I like you too.” He tilts his head to the side, hair falling into his eyes. “I thought I told you that already.” 

“You did,” Yeosang mumbles from behind his hand, mortified that he even voiced the question. If the ground would split open and swallow him up, he’d appreciate it. “Sorry, that’s not what I meant to say.” 

“What did you mean to say then?” 

Yeosang feels like the wind is knocked out of him from that one question alone. It feels a little unfairly loaded, but he supposes that he also brought it upon himself. “I meant, like, the last time we spoke about...this, you said you didn’t trust me.” 

Jongho has the decency to look guilty. “I said that I didn’t trust you with this because I didn’t think you trusted me.” 

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Yeosang argues. 

“It does,” the younger insists. “Anyways, that’s not important right now.” He moves closer to the brunette, and Yeosang shivers at their close proximity. “You were never a Donor, right?” 

“I was exempt,” Yeosang confirms in a strained voice. He isn’t sure if it’s the guilt or the proximity that causes his voice to pitch like that. Maybe both. 

Jongho nods his head in understanding. “San was also exempt, Hongjoong knows what it was like, and Wooyoung...he’s never said, but I figured that he probably was one as well.” 

“You were your brother’s Donor,” Yeosang recalls.

“Yeah.” The younger’s gaze is drawn back to Yeosang’s neck where it often seems to go. “I was Yunho’s Donor at first, but as the numbers of Revenants started to bloom as the war with the Queen ramped up, I just became a Donor. The provisional government didn’t really care who the blood was going to. They just needed a lot of it and fast.” Yeosang winces, well aware that the situation for Donors had really escalated in the middle of the war. “It was a weird experience, you know? We weren’t technically prisoners, but we kind of really were. I’d heard stories from other Donors about the type of treatment they endured if they tried to escape but were caught. I don’t know if they were true, but…” 

“Did you think about it?” Yeosang asked. “Escaping?” He knew Donors were anything but consensual volunteers. In the beginning of the Revenant project they had been, but the Donors of the war were largely any humans caught and conscripted into the cause. They were necessary with supplies thin from the war and the ever growing numbers of Revenants. Yeosang hadn’t realized that many actually tried to outright escape though. 

Jongho shrugs. “Sometimes. I didn’t like it there, really, and I worried about San, but I also thought that I was helping my brother out. He was fighting a war that I could never hope to be a part of except in that sense. I did it for him.” 

“But then something happened?” Yeosang prompts him. 

“Things fell into disarray pretty quickly after the implementation of the Donor Conscription Act the provisional government signed into law. Numbers in the facilities bloomed, and not everyone exactly wanted to be a part of it, so a lot of resources went into keeping people inside. Supplies ran out fast, but the demand for blood kept growing.” Jongho rubs at his bandage self consciously, and Yeosang reaches out to grab his hands, stopping the action. “The staff had to resort to reusing needles in order to keep up with the government’s quotas.” 

Yeosang cringes at the information. He knew that the state of the facilities fell quite rapidly, and that many were put at risk as a result. “The staff weren’t inherently bad or anything. They were always trying to ration what few supplies we got. They did the best they could, I guess.” Even still, Jongho tries to give them the benefit of the doubt. 

“That could put lives at risk,” Yeosang lectures with a shake of his head. 

“It did.” Jongho shakes his head. “There were a few people I knew who passed away during their time at the facility. They never told us why or what happened to the ones who did. That’s why I asked you about it that time. I wonder if maybe some of them came back as Revenants.” 

“But you survived it.” The brunette presses his thumb against Jongho’s knuckles. 

The younger goes quiet at that before pulling away from the medic altogether. “I think my blood was taken with an infected needle at one point,” he says, stomach churning from the memories. “I went into shock, and I got really sick. I didn’t think I would live in all honesty. I don’t really know for sure. Nobody ever told me what happened. They were just glad I survived, but that’s my best guess given the circumstances the staff were under.” 

Yeosang’s lips press into a thin line. So this is what he meant when he said he almost died once. “Why won’t you tell Yunho about this?” he asks. “Shouldn’t he know?” 

Jongho shakes his head adamantly. “No,” he denies hurriedly. “I don’t want him to. He’d just feel bad even though there’s nothing he could have done. And I don’t want to think about it anymore. It’s made me scared, for so long, to help my own brother. I need to move on.” 

“You’ve fed your brother before, though,” Yeosang points out. 

“Of course I did, but I was scared then too. When I didn’t have to face him every day, it became easier to just...ignore it. His needs. I know I was a coward about it—” 

“I’m sorry,” Yeosang cuts him off. 

Jongho startles at the sudden apology, blinking owlishly at the elder. “Why are you apologizing?” he asks. 

“Because I feel like I owe you one,” he answers honestly. “For many things.” 

Jongho grins and shakes his head in disbelief. “You don’t owe me an apology,” he tells the medic. “You’ve done more than enough for me. For us. You helped Yunho, you saved San, you came back here even though you didn’t have to. I don’t know what you think you should apologize for.” He rubs at his inner elbow, still sore from the needle. 

Yeosang reaches out for the younger, taking hold of one of his hands. Jongho doesn’t pull away though he does look down at their linked hands curiously. “I realize,” the brunette begins, licking his lips, “that I may have been pretty harsh on you in the past. I apologize for that.” 

The younger shrugs him off, trying to pull his hand free from Yeosang’s grip. The medic tightens his hold though, so Jongho immediately stops. “Maybe you were harsh, but you were also right. So I guess there’s no need for you to apologize.” 

Squeezing Jongho’s hand, he hides a smile behind his free hand. “I’m glad you can see it that way then.” 

“About what I said to you before though, I meant it.” 

“You meant what?” Yeosang asks, not entirely sure what Jongho is referring to. 

The tips of the younger’s ears turn a little rosy shade, and he finally pulls his hand out of Yeosang’s grip so he can cross his arms over his chest. “That I like you,” he repeats in a mumble. “You’re one of the few people I’ve met that I feel I can really rely on.” 

“Ah.” Yeosang smiles at him and can’t help but tease him a little. “So are we also best friends? Like you and Mingi?” 

“He is not my best friend,” Jongho grumbles, expression souring. “And you're the worst. I take back what I said.” 

  
  
  
  
  


Jongho is still ever so nervous when he comes in for his blood draws. With the blood beads now blooming, Yeosang has reduced the frequency of their blood collection. Even San can keep up with the new schedule though Yunho seems uncomfortable with the notion. Yeosang doesn’t see Jongho on his exam table much anymore, but whenever he is, the younger is always swinging his legs back and forth, eyes fixated on the broken clock above the door. 

Yeosang tries to make the process as painless and easy for him as possible, showering the younger man with praise for being brave enough to do this. His cheeks always flush when Yeosang speaks to him that way, and he complains that the medic is embarrassing him. Yeosang doesn’t stop, though, because the way Jongho has to try and suppress his smile tells a completely different story. 

“Mingi came in to see me yesterday. He had a pretty nasty cut on his arm,” Yeosang says to make conversation as he finishes up with Jongho by placing a bandage over the puncture wound. 

“Mingi seems to have made it his life’s mission to befriend Wooyoung, and he won’t listen when we tell him it’s probably a bad idea.” Jongho bends his arms a few times to test himself. He’s always a little sore after a blood draw and today is no different. He pouts, displaying his bandage to Yeosang, “It hurts. Kiss it better?” 

Yeosang rolls his eyes but indulges the younger, leaning down to place a small peck over the bandage. It’s really quite lame, but Jongho seems pleased either way. “So I have Wooyoung to thank for that cut then, huh?” 

“They got into a small fight,” Jongho confirms. Small is probably an understatement, but considering Mingi _only_ walked away with one nasty cut means Wooyoung was at least trying to hold back. So comparatively a small fight. 

“You don’t think Wooyoung will actually seriously hurt him, do you?” Yeosang asks worriedly. The blond  _ has _ bragged about killing Revenants in the past. 

“Mingi is annoying, but I think even Wooyoung would feel bad for killing him.” 

“Good. Do you think you could ask him to tone it down with the violence though? It would be a shame to spend the majority of my time patching Mingi up when I could be spending it doing more productive things.” Yeosang wraps one hand around the back of Jongho’s neck, pulling the younger in closer. He presses his nose into Jongho’s hair line before tipping his chin up to place a kiss against the side of Jongho’s forehead. 

Jongho laughs, sinking against Yeosang’s side. “I’ll try.” 

Yeosang presses another kiss against his temple. “That’s all I ask for.” He pulls away from the younger then, urging him off the exam table. “You did get today,” he compliments, patting him on the hips a couple of times. 

Jongho rolls his eyes at the praise. “Can I come over to your room later?” he asks. 

Yeosang smiles at him. “You’re always welcome.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So one of my best friends and I started watching movies together over discord lol. How are you guys spending your time in quarantine?

**Author's Note:**

> I have too much free time now. I should go pretend like I still have a job. I suck at working from home


End file.
